


Severed & Stitched

by orphan_account



Series: The Broken Series [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: (in flashbacks) - Freeform, (where Asgard is not nice to sibling incest), Action/Adventure, Anal Sex, Angst, Asgard, Banishment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I'll squeeze the rest of Thor the Dark world in the sequel, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, Lack of Following the Order of Marvel Movies, Like seriously this is a mix of Thor the Dark World and post Avengers Age of Ultron, Loki Feels, M/M, Miðgarðr | Midgard, Oral Sex, Sibling Incest, Suicide Attempt, Super weird timing, Teen Loki, Teen Thor, Thor Feels, Vanaheimr | Vanaheim, Álfheimr | Alfheim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-07-11 03:12:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 76,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7025155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is depressed, wondering what is left of his life now that he is sentenced to eternity in Asgard's dungeons. After direct and indirect attempts to end it all, he finally gets the chance to turn things somewhat around, and under odd circumstance, possibly be granted back his freedom. But when old ghosts of relationships' past come back to haunt he and Thor, and the two boys, more mature this time, rekindle the lost fire of so many years turned to ash, they'll have to try even harder to keep it a secret. And if Odin finds out, it can only mean hurt, punishment and a long journey back to find each other once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

 

            Loki didn’t think much as he fought, throwing fists in the air, it just so happened that they collided with the skin of the giant in front of him. His skin would no longer hold its Asgardian appearance at each contact. The flashes of it, every punch made his hand, maybe forearm collect that dull blue, before he withdrew it and it returned to peach. The Jotün , towering over him, lifted his own fists, big like paws, to upper cut the brunette man. If he completed the punch, it’d probably be over for Loki. So, the former prince, who was rather well at thinking and doing magic on his feet created a quick illusion of himself before the beast, cloaking himself invisible. This gave him enough time, to circle around him and climbed him with ease, eliminating the illusion at his perch. He wrapped his arms around the giant’s wide neck, choking him, squeezing his waist, all the while his skin racing to the color of its origin, a light navy painting the white of his bare chest. The other prisoners cheered around the two blood bred Jotün criminals. They were either rooting for Loki, or screaming something like “knock that little boy on the ground.” Though, to be more accurate, there were a few swears and other profanities tossed in the air.

            The fight had started rather pathetically. Loki stayed on the edge of the barrier that enclosed the prison yard. Other prisoners rumbled and mumbled, playing pointless games while Loki stood alone creating illusions of where he rather be and otherwise messing around with the power wielded between his fingers. Though, the hallucinations of being king were becoming less and less satisfying. It was only when the illusion was finished playing that Loki grew offended by his current opponent. Prison wasn’t at all an easy place to be, not on Midgard, and the dangers and ridicule was worse so on Asgard, especially when you’re a pretty-boy ex-citizen, ex-prince of the place.

“Look at Loki, _pompous pretty boy_ , he’s too good to talk to anyone.” The frost giant had said to another prisoner. Coincidentally, Loki had tuned into their conversation at this point and furrowed his brow. “He’s no Jotün, he’s a coward.” The other criminal merely nodded in agreement and recognition without giving much care. Loki’s skin grew hot and red, and throwing off the leather vest he’d worn over his tunic, he’d approached the circle of giants and Asgardians.

            “A coward?” Loki questioned to the blue structure before him. Loki was like a dog to this beast of a creature, but he didn’t care, mutt or not, he planned on biting him hard enough to question his power. “A coward?” He reiterated, and pushed on his chest with balled fingers. The giant at first looked down on Loki inquisitively, as though not fully understanding the words coming out of the pale Asgardian’s mouth, skin now blushed with rage. But, when he grasped the taunt of meager Loki, who ripped off his shirt, his collar bone already collecting sweat in the Asgardian heat, held his fists before him, he took a greater stance. He may have been small to a Jotün, but war along with Chitauri training had given him a lean, toned build and increased strength. And bravely he landed punches and kicks until he was where he was now: atop the giant trying to strangle consciousness from his extensive body.

            Though, with a change in his tactics, the giant stopped his failing attempt to pull him off and instead shook violently.  Loki held his fingers tight against him for awhile like the claws of a tic, digging his nails, made black from the affects of the contact with the giant, into his Adam’s apple. With a bellow, the giant shook even harder, reaching around to throw Loki off him, who responded with a bite to his shoulder and the tightest embrace to his fellow duelist. And with that choke and a roar of the crowd, the giant swiftly gave an abrupt thrash, knocking Loki cold on the ground, his Jotün skin relieving itself as soon as the contact broke. Ivory skinned Loki had no time to rise from his place on the floor before the hideous giant crushed the degraded prince with his huge fists, turning him blue in a different sense. It wasn’t only hands though. The angry monster took Loki by his throat; just as Loki had done with two arms he did so with one hand, and forced his head into the ground repeatedly. Loki smiled in his gags and hoarse garble psychotically. Though, even he, a former king of Asgard was not invincible and he wondered if he should feel regret for ever starting this disproportional brawl. _I probably should_ , he thought, _do I?_ He asked himself in his mind and replied, _No, not in all honesty_ , before he lost his senses and became shrouded in darkness.

 

When he woke, he didn’t open his eyes; his body down to his bones was much too weak, too strained to even force open his eyelids. Instead, he used what valuable senses he held at will. There was the smell of medicine and the sound of soft feminine voices, tittering and quiet as to not wake him. He recognized one of the delicate voices as Frigga, his adopted mother, though the other was strange to him.

            “It’s that bad?” Frigga whispered.

            “I’m afraid so, the Jotün threw his head to the ground many fold.” The other spoke, Frigga’s breath sighed. He wanted to open his eyes and see her, but the muscles enabling him wouldn’t allow him to do so. _Open, open, open_ , he’d repeated, as though the commands would somehow alert his muscles to pry his sockets ajar. He would’ve flinched and then leaned into his mother’s hand when he felt her rest it on his head, but he was paralyzed by his overwhelming weariness. So, instead, he offered himself more sleep, and took the offer silently.

 

When he woke for the second time he felt significantly stronger, not strong, but certainly not the tired weak mess he felt he was before. He opened his eyes with a flutter and sat upright, looking around his bedroom, surprised to find himself there and not the prison clinic. The black sheets and green canopy rustled when he slightly bent his knees. He hadn’t been here in a while, but everything was as it was before. A golden harp lay across the room, on the elevated half that held his bed. Next to his bed was the door that lead to his washroom. In front all this, was a heavy railing that turned into steps at its middle, descending to the leveled area that consisted of a small breakfast table, a parlor area, fit with a fireplace, and large windows that ate the door leading to his balcony. The room was very open, and very grand, after all, it’d belonged to a prince. Though a few things did seem out of place, that being his wrist that was chained to his bedpost, long enough for him to move around but shorter than the distance to the door, and his brother sitting on a black and chestnut arm chair by his side. Mjolnir sat next to him and Loki grunted. The shackle that bound him bit him and he felt too languid to even attempt to lift it. Instead he bothered speaking to Thor, who sat with his head in his hands and eyes at the ground.

            “Ehem,” Loki cleared his throat, as to arouse his brother’s attention. Loki was still dressed the same, bare, with his brown trousers and black boots, his ribs however, were bound in white bandages. Thor looked up at the sound and stood.

            “Brother,” he said. He wanted to hold him, pick him up and swing him around, screaming that his brother was okay, but he settled for a poker faced, “How are you feeling?” Loki furrowed his brows.

            “Tired, why are you here? Why am I here?” He asked and picked at the bandages around his torso, Thor tensed.

            “ _Don’t_ touch it,” he warned, aggravated at his finicky little brother wanting to pluck and prod at his wound like a child. “Well, since someone decided to involve themselves in a bad scrape with a Jotün, you are under healers care.”

            “I know that much, oaf,” Loki spat and sighed, “I mean why am I not in the dungeon health room, and why are you with me? Where’s mother?”

            “She went to speak with father. She will return. I’m here as to surveillance you for now. She did not wish you there, so she had you transported to your own quarters, or what once was. Now, you answer me this: What were you thinking when you challenged that Jotün?” Thor said sternly, Loki chuckled at his brother’s concerned tone.

            “I figured it’d be a fair fight, since I am of his kind after all,” Loki jested. Thor grunted. The desire to join Loki in a great embrace seemed to disappear as soon as he opened his mouth. Now he only wanted to smack him on the head, maybe knock him in the jaw, but he figured that’d not do too well to his healing process.

            “Never mind my concern, I do not wish to deal with that venomous tongue of yours.” Thor took his seat back down, and Loki bit the inside of his cheek, was that a bit of guilt he felt, or was it hunger? He didn’t know.

            “Look, I just, he taunted me, I was angry. Being Asgardian proves only noble when you aren’t locked away in the dungeons.” Thor was surprised by his brother’s civility and smiled, and then frowned, even more astounded. He had everyone worrying he was going to die over a petty insult?

            “You almost died over a trivial jeer? Tell me, what did this Jotün say that struck you so harshly as to act as you have?” Loki knew if he told him it’d only make him look weak, fragile, and sensitive, all of which he opposed, so instead, he shook his head.

            “Never mind it.”

            “No, no, I do mind it. You had everyone worried you were dead, over what?” Thor raised his voice, and the passion of his words did not go unnoticed by Loki. _Worried about me? They worried._ Loki was a bit taken aback, to say the least. They worried about the adopted frost giant gone astray? He could believe his mother, maybe even Thor, but who else? Odin? Certainly not Odin, he who looked him in the eye at his trial and said, “Loki _Laufeyson_.” Still, he remained a mask of indifference and answered solemnly.

            “He said I was a pompous Asgardian coward,” Loki proclaimed, and laid his head against the headboard, immediately regretting it as an arrow of fire and ice shot through his skull. “Dammit!” He swore and held the back of his head. Thor was going to yell at Loki, tell him how stupid that was, but his painful cranium served as those words. It was pitiful really, Loki, clearly weary and exhausted, trying to remain his cool, proud stance. Though, in some honesty, deeper within him that he would deny until the end, he’d walked into that fight with the notion he would lose. He simply didn’t care. He had nothing left to live for, weather he won or lost a simple prison brawl was redundant to the years he had left. All the years he had left, as he thought, were rather worthless. But, he had an infamous reputation he _had_ to keep.

            “Loki, do you regret anything you did on Midgard?” The question was abrupt and frightening. Where’d that come from?  But, it was a question that Thor couldn’t help but ask. He needed to hear that he did, from somewhere within him. He needed something he could feed to the All Father to convince him of Loki’s corruption and regretted misdirection, but Loki was too _proud_ , too vain to admit to any sort of fault. Perhaps, if he did, he could scheme and beg his way out of prison, but he couldn’t find even a part of his being that actually gave hell to the idea.

            “Now, why should I?” Loki felt threatened by the question, he didn’t know why, but nonetheless, he did, and he stood from his bed, the chain extending like an uncoiling snake to reach over the mattress. He was about to challenge Thor  with some witty remark or the other, show him how much he regretted Midgard, but his mother came in, and to her, he couldn’t stand to let her see him as he has been seen again, not in his current state. Her beauty was the type that had aged like wine and her smile, a full one at the sight of Loki awake, even brought a small grin to the sour Jotün’s face.

            “Loki, why are you out of bed? You should be resting.” She advised, at this, Loki sat back down and smoothed the dark silken sheets. Frigga carried a silver platter of fruit and cheese. Even as a prisoner, Loki was treated like royalty. _Why can’t that be enough? Why can’t I be satisfied with being a pampered prince? Why must I be King?_ Loki asked himself. _You know why._

            “What would you like, my son?” She asked, offering the plate. Loki plucked a few grapes and held them in the cup of his hand. He ate them while she talked, savoring their richness, he hadn’t acknowledged how terribly hungry he was. “Do you feel any better?” Loki nodded, chewing on a grape.

            “When do I go back to my cell?” He asked, indifferent.      

            “Tomorrow.” Loki looked out the window and saw it was dusk. “You’ll be sore for a while. The woman who treated you said it was the worst thing that ever came out of a prison, still living and breathing that is.” _Oh, how comforting._ “Loki, try not to get into anymore trouble while you’re in there, all right?” Loki nodded, eyes closed, and Frigga gave a gentle caress to Loki’s cheek. Thor couldn’t help but notice the similarities in the Loki that interacted with his mother and the Loki that he knew before all the madness that had commenced thereof. “Now, eat and regain your strength.” Frigga didn’t leave right away. She and Thor stayed a while longer, talking with an overwhelming blindness to Loki’s wrongdoings. They all pretend to be okay for a while. Loki wanted to be foul toward them both, initially, act irritated with their concern for his wellbeing, but their kindness made such illness hard. When they left, a guard came into the room as to stand watch through the night, and Loki, tired and weak, fell asleep as soon as they were gone, perhaps he’d dream of a better time.

 

No, he didn’t. He only dreamed of Chitauri torture and broken hope. He was broken, broken, just a broke boy in a grown man’s body. Just, waiting for someone to fix the pieces, but he found that it would never happen. After all, who could he meet that could possibly turn his life around in prison?  He’d accepted he never would. His hope for a change within himself was ill and after speaking with his mother and Thor, it only showed him how mislead his feelings for a retribution or rectification truly was. But, that question still hung in the air. _Do you regret anything you did on Midgard?_ Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. Having an opinion was hard when you’ve been brain washed, mind controlled, and sucked into being something you thought you never were. So, Loki laid in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark, it must’ve been somewhere near the hour of two in the morning and at his wake he felt restless. It was one of those nights where he would’ve gone to Thor’s arms to find solace. _As a matter of fact,_ he thought, psychoanalyzing himself, _perhaps that’s where it all stemmed from._ His relationship with Thor, for it’d been a bumpy one, could’ve played a large part in how he turned out.

            When they were teenagers, the two hormonal boys, had been lovers. It was a brief affair really, but one to which Loki had remained faithful. He’d never lain with anyone, man or woman, as he’d lain with Thor. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t let go, maybe. But, there seemed so much to it than that. They spent so much time in bliss and euphoria, loving, arguing, bantering, and also hurting. He’d remembered the first night like it was his entire life. Thor had been drinking, so had he. At the time they still shared a chamber, and when they both retired, they were confessing all sorts of things, and before they knew it, they were seducing one another. And the next morning, it lacked the sullen awkwardness that comes with many these encounters. It was as thought the entire spectacle was one meant to happen. They woke up curled around each other’s bodies, complimenting the other’s form with their own. They were like woven silk, forged together. Their coupling had lasted a wonder filled eight months, nearly a year, before it came to a silent end. Loki never knew why, Thor just stopped with their affections and requested his own quarters. He remembered one time they’d had, it’d probably been their best time ever.

            Loki had been angry at Thor. He’d seen him flirting with Sif, giving her looks she didn’t deserve, and talking himself up. It wasn’t serious or anything. Still, adolescent Loki was having none of it. He laid on his bed, which mirrored Thor’s _._ (Though they’d been sleeping in the same one, most the time.) He laid, elbows pink, young and soft, pubescent hairs prickling from his body, eyes wide, hair in a pony tail, he laid on his stomach, legs crossed behind him while writing something for his tutor to look over the next morning. Thor came in, with eyes too bright, and skin too light a glow. And Loki, who would’ve normally came jumping into his sibling’s arms, did not lift his gaze from his script, and Thor, smiling a smile that noted he was up for a challenge, crossed the space between them and took the paper from underneath Loki’s grasp, looking at him with a lustful smile. Loki rolled his eyes.

            “I’m still angry with you Thor, don’t talk to me.” He spoke sternly and Thor bit his lip in amusement.

            “Come now, Loki, don’t be cross with me. I wish to spend time with you.”

            “Why don’t you spend time with _Sif?_ ” Loki returned. Thor nodded.

            “Ah! That’s what this is about. Loki, you know how disgusted I am by Sif, with her plump breasts and all other conceivable wiles.” Loki smiled at this , but immediately cursed himself for it.

            “Well, I’m still angry.” Thor squinted his eyes at this and chuckled.

            “We’ll see how angry you really are.” Thor gave him, and casually straddled Loki’s backside, his legs were exposed from the knee down, and Thor ran light fingertips along the small growing black hairs, and traveled them over his behind, up his back and to Loki’s shoulders, before he began nipping at his lover’s pink ear. Loki protested at first, and then, Thor, exciting him with his forcefulness, flipped over his scrawny brother and pulled him underneath him, whispering a sensual “shut up,” at Loki’s constant bickering. He connected their mouths before Loki could say anymore, and deepened their intimacy once again.

            Loki hadn’t realized he was crying at the pitiful memory until his noises had become present. That’d been most of it, hadn’t it? He’d definitely been the clump that started the rolling of his snowball of negativity, evil, turning point; he wasn’t even sure how to put it anymore without insulting himself. He’d loved Thor so much, he’d loved him irresistibly, and he didn’t even care. Everyone loved Thor, but none like _he_ loved him, and when Thor stopped giving him that attention, he couldn’t find it from anyone else. He supposed that, yes, it must’ve been the root of it. And hearing his mother’s voice as well as Thor’s, their kind words and concerns had brought all this of which he thought was buried, into the light. He knew why he jumped on that frost giant; it was no mystery, just a subconscious motive made conscious. He wanted to die. He did. And the more he thought of it, the more he realized how badly, how much he needed to. What was he, but a forgotten prince, left behind with a lost legacy and infamy built behind him? He’d no real point to his life, so he might as well take it. He wouldn’t give them time to worry. He’d make sure it was done this time, he wouldn’t risk any failure. They’d be rid of his pestering life. There was but no importance of his breath, the beat of his heart was but a meaningless thud under the sheets and when the guard heard Loki’s pathetic sobbing and asked if he was all right, Loki shouted with poison, “Are _you_ all right? You worthless piece of shite on a peasants shoe! Damn, just stick the sword to your own heart and be over with it!” He screamed it at the guard, but he knew the real person he was yelling at.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a few things I made up (technology) for this chapter:  
> -A tissue pen - a pen shaped tool used to create skin tissue based on the surrounding cells, and close any open wounds (like stitches, basically)  
> -Sedative Beads - a bead you enter in the mouth, nose, or ear to sedate the patient.  
> -Pulse Creator - like a defibrillator, but its small, shaped like a pen or bingo marker that you simply "shoot" the patient with in their neck or wrist to send a pulse to their heart.  
> Yeah, basically a few Asgardianish things I thought their med. team might have.

           When Loki was taken back to his cell, he still hadn’t figure out how he would possibly go about his hasty and determined suicide. He knew he wanted something easy and quick, as well as soon. He didn’t want to have to take weeks just to gather needed materials. He just wanted to be dead, simply put, he welcomed it.  There was no deal to him, no mindful complications, other than the means at which he would eradicate himself. He just wanted to remove his burden from his mother and Thor’s shoulders. When he was gone they’d have nothing to worry about, or be angry by, or disappointed in, he’d be gone, and with him gone, so their troubles. After all, he didn’t have much to live for, other than that little white cell that was too bright. He could try and escape, maybe attempt another conquest, but he tried and failed twice. He was done trying, he didn’t care. He just didn’t want to be. And so, he wouldn’t.

            He’d considered beforehand the options to rule out. He couldn’t strangle himself, as there was no place to hang him from and an overdose would require him to make a friend that had the access to drugs or poison, which would take much too long for the quick exit he’d been hoping for. But, when placed in his cell, he’d forgotten of the wine glass that sat on his end table. Oh, this would be easier than he thought. Should he write a note? Perhaps, perhaps not. It’d be quick enough, but a bit messier than he’d anticipated. As soon as the guards had dispersed from near his cell, setting up the illusion of him reading as to not arouse suspicion. He took the cup between his fingers and tapped on the table as one would crack an egg. And when the glass shattered, grabbing a long piece he thought of where he should pierce it, not having expected himself to succumb to this sort of self inflicted exit. Should he stab his throat? No, that’d probably take the most time to bleed out, and stuck in the wrong spot, it’d most likely just ooze. He did want simple, so he settled for his wrist, and made sure the glass’ edge was properly aligned with the artery on the right side of his arm.

            “Well, this is it, I don’t want to be dramatic,” he spoke to himself, “I guess my last words are a bit loquacious considering I’m my only audience.” With that, Loki held the glass knife like a pencil and placed it carefully in the line of the blood vessel and drew along it, with surgical precision. Applying as most pressure as possible he pressed the cup into his skin and in a swift drag, watched his blood spray like fountain. He sat behind the bed, the illusion would begin to falter and he didn’t want to be prematurely discovered. And with a final thought, perhaps of Thor, he relaxed as his blood made paintings on the white walls.  

 

The clattering of plates and forks against silence was more painful than the scream of a banshee. Thor sighed in exasperation and took a sip of dry wine. Odin didn’t stir at all and Frigga smiled when Thor glanced at her through his lashes. Having dinner as a family was odd, they hadn’t in years and the seat across from Thor’s was much too consciously empty, it was him. His heart felt loss, though his brother still lived, and his mind felt empty and without reason to dream, if Loki not by his side. He acted as though he could never forgive him, as though Loki had proven himself to be evil, but he didn’t believe any of it, even though he probably should. They all sat in a continuing and excruciating silence and Thor wiped at his mouth.

            “You miss him, don’t you?” Finally, came Frigga’s voice, a tear in the terrific stillness that plagued the dining room.

            “Naturally, I didn’t know I cared as much I do, until yesterday.” Thor lied, of course he knew he cared, he loved Loki more than anyone. He wasn’t at all proud of the person he’d become, and he truly didn’t feel Loki was worthy of his mother’s respects, but he missed him, he loved him. He wished that whatever had gone wrong could be reversed and solved before it happened, but he wasn't the type to dwell on things.

            “You should visit him, you know. I think he’d appreciate it, no matter the antagonistic things he says.” Thor nodded and Odin’s face was masked with outrage. Suddenly, the aura of the room changed from love and grief to aggravation.

            “Visit him? Frigga he is a criminal, when will you come to realize that?” Odin said things, but based purely on his face it was hard to tell what he was exactly thinking. He always kept a straight face, remaining unmoved, except for maybe, when he was angry, for then he was a whole other beast. But, in these moments of anger, he was a hard person to read. “you should not be wasting time on him, and don’t encourage Thor to.” Thor furrowed his brow and tested his father’s authority.

            “Well what if _I_ want to see him?” He spoke and Odin’s glance fell directly to his son. It’s not that Thor didn’t see where his father was coming from; he just didn’t want to be denied the simple liberty of visitation. If he wanted to see Loki, he should be able to.

            “I know you will try my advice, but I wouldn’t grant him luxury of my visits as you do.” Thor looked at both of his parents. That graceless lack of noise was there again, making Thor especially antsy. And his impatience getting the better of him, he took another sip of wine, and stood, putting on his cloak, as it would be cold in the dungeons, he pushed in his chair.

            “I’m going to see him.” Thor announced and left the room. Odin sighed.

            “Must you equip him with ideas?” Frigga smiled.

 

The dungeon was cold, very cold and not just the temperature. The air was a bit dank and Thor felt suddenly nervous. He didn’t notice the grumbling among other prisoners while he walked past the cells. His appearance was after all a resented one to the jailed. He’d forgotten which cell was exactly his brother’s, so as he passed the walls, he looked for dark hair and green garments. And when he did finally find such, he found more colors than black hair and green fabric. The entire cell seemed dominated by red. Thor, surprised, scared and angry, stood slack jawed, trying so much to yell before his words finally caught up with him.

            “G-guard, you imbeciles, could you not! Agh!” Thor finally screamed, blood curdling and the guards rushed down, however they took much too long for Thor’s panicked impatience. So, too angry, too vehement, and too scared to wait for them to release the cell’s barrier, he called Mjolnir. It came, bursting open the prison doors, it may have grazed the shoulders of a few bystanders, but Thor could care less. His brother, his lover and his best friend, lay in a heap of pale skin and blood, his wrist gashed open. Blood seemed to be everywhere, in a wide pool by his body and sprayed across the floor and walls. It was terrifying, scarring, and Thor, with great force collided his hammer with the gold barrier, once twice, and on the third time it came down, dissipating like flickering ash. With much urgency, he ran to kneel by his brother’s side, feeling for a pulse, he felt, instead silence, not the aggravating silence of the dining room, but insane, scary silence that Thor wasn’t used to.

            “A healer, you useless soldiers!” _This can be fixed_ , he told himself, _Loki will live, Loki will live. There’s no reason he shouldn’t._ A young nurse came from the neighboring hall of the prison’s healing chamber with a tissue pen and pulse creator.

            “Please make way, my lord.” She instructed, and Thor did so without hesitation. With the tissue pen, she first, quickly and precisely repaired his broken artery.

            “What happened? I mean how in the nine could something like this…” Thor rambled, and the nurse looked him in the eye with wonder and disdain at his denial.

            “My prince, this wound was _clearly_ self-inflicted.” She spoke, and Thor stopped, the thought of Loki hurting himself had never come to mind. Why would he hurt himself like that? He’d just survived a great battle with a frost giant, and he tried to end himself the very next day. Oh, what would his parents think of their suicidal son? His mother, what would she do? She’d wept so much already. When she found out this, oh how pestered she’d be.

            The nurse finally closed the wound with the pen and then took the pulse creator, placing it under the dead prince’s ear, right at his jaw, she pressed a button, sending a pulse through his veins, traveling to his heart. The entire time, Thor held his brother’s wrist, waiting to feel that warm contraction he feared Loki’s deceased heart would never create again.

 

Being dead, at first, was like a dreamless sleep. It was like floating in darkness, numb to everything. There was nothing to feel, emotionally, physically, there was no stimulus. He didn’t feel scared, or happy, or sad, he felt _nothing_ and he was finally at rest with himself, dead, like he should’ve been, responsible for his own execution, he’d gone out on his own terms, and that was best of all. In the nothingness, Loki didn’t know what to do, so he waited, or maybe he didn’t, there seemed to be no sense of time, so he didn’t know. Though, somewhere in the abyss, a distant, tiny star gleamed through the dark and Loki stared at it, or felt it, he had no eyes, no body, he couldn’t tell if he was actually _seeing_ anything as people do with eyes. Though the star gleamed brighter and brighter, Loki still felt nothing, no different, but he just watched--or didn’t watch the light grow into a tunnel of pure energy, getting wider and wider, the star became a sun, and only continued to change and transform, it grew. It formed more and more, contours starting to show, the light darkening in some places and he was looking, or rather not looking at—Thor? And it was as if all the fancy brilliance drained from the picture. He was no longer in light or darkness, he was wet with blood and looking at his beaming brother, the widest grin on his face, he’d ever seen. He was alive? He was _alive_! How the _hell_ was he alive? Fuming, rage written, murderous, he blinked in the setting of his cell, nurse and Thor at his side, he clenched his jaw hard enough to crack his teeth. Why couldn’t these idiots just let him die? And with pure adrenaline, he screamed, and crushed his knuckles into the hardest fist ever clenched; he pounded his fingers into Thor’s jaw.

            “Ah!” Thor shouted, grabbing his face. Loki couldn’t think or remember a time where he’d ever been more livid. Thor and his grin, the nurse’s wide eyes, he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t stand it. He screamed and cried with rage, hysterically laughing with fury, exasperation, and devastation.

            “You fucking _moron_!” He bawled, hitting air, and sometimes Thor, with his fists. The young nurse, not really knowing what else to do, yanked a bead from her person. Thor looked at her with a question in his eyes.

            “What are you doing?”

            “Sedating him,” She pressed the bead, with much difficulty and force, into Loki’s ear, where it busted and the sedative traveled through his brain and he fell unconscious.

 

Loki awoke from an unintended unconsciousness for what seemed like the hundredth time. He was in his room again, in his bed, but he wasn’t chained this time. And despite his liveliness, he felt dead again, as he felt nothing. He was too mad to be relieved and too worn to be mad. He felt so numb, yet sensitive, hardened yet fragile, and everything seemed to cancel out each other. He looked to the right of his bed side and saw Frigga. She wasn’t all calm and collected with a tray of fruit and dairy this time though. She had obviously been crying, and her hair wasn’t done, it lay flat around her shoulders and she looked heartbroken and offended. Loki couldn’t bear to look upon those puffy, betrayed eyes, and so he turned the other way, still not saying anything, he looked to his harp. It was a beautiful instrument, crafted by minstrels and carpenters alike, both their expertise showing through its strings and its frame. He stood, sullen, walking to it, his face still impassive as he fingered the strings, noticing the mangled scar on his wrist. He sighed, continuing to play a sad song on delicate threads, a requiem for his own death, or life, whatever should’ve been. Plucking pretty, depressing sounds, remaining expressionless. Frigga stood.

            “Loki.” He didn’t stop playing, only fixing his gaze downward, he remained mute, and did not look at her, for the shame, guilt and anger he’d feel if he saw her eyes would _really_ kill him.

            “Loki, why have you done this?” Loki’s eyes finally let tears fall, but his face did not change.

            “Why’ve you nursed me? Why did you send Thor to _save_ me?” And somewhere within him he found the strength to look at her, “Why couldn’t you’ve let me die?” He stopped playing now.

            “Because, you are my son Loki! Because no matter how your sad mind twists things I love you! And Thor was the one to save you, I had no idea you’d done this to yourself!” Loki was a bit startled by her volume; it was rare Frigga raised her voice.

            “And does Odin care? Does Odin care at all?”Loki spat back, and Frigga gave a wry smile. Walking closer to Loki, she whispered.

            “I wouldn’t be able to ask him.” She pressed her fingers to the nape of Loki’s neck, and he gasped at the image that shot through his mind. Odin lay in his chamber,  peacefully in his bed, eyes closed, induced into his Odin sleep. “As soon as he found out you tried to slay yourself.” Loki swallowed, rendered speechless. “You were dead for fifteen minutes.” _And I should have stayed that way,_ Loki thought, and a realization struck him. If Odin, not in charge, than who? And his first guess was voiced as he walked in.

            “So, then that means Thor is--” Loki was interrupted, or rather, assisted.

            “King, Loki, yes,” Thor finished he had a smile that was painfully sarcastic. Loki didn’t ever think he saw the expression on Thor’s face. “I don’t want to be. I don’t think I’m responsible enough for that, but if Loki wants to nearly kill himself, and hurt everyone that still cares about him despite all the horrors he’s caused, then these are the repercussions.” Loki swallowed a nervous lump in his throat. “Now, my dear mother, I’d like to speak to prince Loki alone, please.” Loki suddenly felt his cheeks get hot, his heart beating faster, reminding him of how alive he really was. Thor was angry, very angry, and it wasn’t the sexy kind of angry he liked Thor to be, only to melt it away, it was you’re-in-for-it-meet-your-end angry. Frigga ran her fingertips along Loki’s shoulder, and Thor’s before she left with the saddest look on her poor face. Loki bit his cheek and Thor made his way up the stairs, standing straight in front of Loki, that same cynical smile on his face. And looking closer at his brother, Loki noticed a purple bruise on Thor’s face, somewhat concealed by his heavy blond stubble.

            “Loki, brother,” Thor began, and Loki immediately corrected him.

            “I’m not your b--” And Thor, he had his limits too, and Loki had pushed him. He’d been punched, scared half to death, and now deemed king, there really wasn’t much left he was willing to put up with. And as soon as Loki opened his mouth to declare _I’m not your brother,_ Thor smacked him hard across his cheek, and Loki’s breath caught in his throat, not at all expecting the blow.

            “Shut up, Loki!” He yelled, and cleared his throat, beginning again, this time accentuating, “Brother! My I’ve wanted to do that for a while. Anyway, as King, my first order is to set you free.” Loki cocked an eyebrow in disbelief, he couldn’t be serious. “But, I am putting you on _probation_.” Thor said in a sing-song sort of way and dangled metal bracelets in front of him. Loki only grew more confused. “One is so we can hear everything you say, and the other is so we can see everything you do. Mother has stripped you of your magic and anywhere you go, you must have an escort. So now, tell me if prison is so bad.” Thor spoke slyly and grabbed both Loki’s wrists, slapping on the cuffs.

            “Couldn’t I just take them off?” Loki pointed out and touched the bracelets, but found that was all he could do.

            “Oh yes, mother has enchanted them, so none but me, father and she can remove them.” Thor gave another smile and Loki scowled.

            “All right, I wish to be left alone.” Loki requested. Thor nodded.

            “Of course, allow me to summon your watch guard.” Thor opened the door and called a name Loki couldn’t hear. A soldier entered, blond hairs falling out of his helmet, completely armored. “Farewell, Loki.” Loki had no more words and instead head toward his washroom, Thor had left, and the true gravity of his situation hit him when the guard followed.

            “Excuse me, I’d like to wash.” He said, the guard cleared his throat before speaking.

            “I am to accompany you everywhere Prince, you are not to be left alone.” Loki pursed his lips and sighed. _Yes_ , he thought, _prison would’ve been much better._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so basically this whole story is written, it's just a matter of typing it from my notebook. Thanks for those who are reading, I'm gonna try to update everyday, and fun-fact Loki's near death experience is based off a friend of mine, and the description of his experience.
> 
> Yeah, anyway, thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post another one later today...
> 
> Please Comment and Share!

           The first couple days of Loki’s newly made “freedom,” he stayed in his room, reading, moping and wishing he had his magic. But, he was growing extremely annoyed, and extremely bored. And the other entity that remained in his room was annoying him most of all. He’d gotten so bored, and so aggravated, that he’d begun to insult the poor guard as some means of entertainment. “Drown in acid,” he’d say, “you’re hideous,” “pubescent dwarf,” and his favorite, “Why don’t you just die already?” He sounded like a bratty Midgardian teenager with the insults he’d throw at the man. But he was so _bored_ , not to mention dirty. He hadn’t bathed in a week and he felt absolutely filthy, and since he refused to wash with his guard as a witness, the grime only continued to grow on him. He’d seen him use the restroom, that much he could bare, but to strip and rub soap into his skin would be too intimate for him to withstand.

            “You’re so distasteful,” came Loki’s voice and he flipped a page in a terrible book, setting it down. “By the nine, this is dull!” He groaned and closed the novel, hopping atop his bed, so he stood on the mattress, he jumped up and down, grabbing hold of the canopy post, he swung lightly off of it. It’s not that he wasn’t allowed to do anything, or go anywhere, because he was, it was the fact that Blondie had to go everywhere with him. It only motivated him to stay inside, that and the fact that anyone he might talk to hated him. He didn’t have any friends anymore. He was truly an outcast, and a dirty one. The grunginess was driving him madder than he already was. “That’s it! I’m taking a bath, and you are not following me!” Loki shouted and ran to the bathroom door, locking it behind him, before the guard could sweep himself inside. He pulled off his shirt, and began to undo his pants, when the guard quickly opened the door with a key, he‘d equipped by a means, (probably Thor’s), and Loki only winced in exasperation. Couldn’t this young idiot take a hint at not following every rule given to him?

            “I’m sorry my prince, but King Thor has given me precise orders that I cannot disobey,” the voice of a kid, probably two hundred years younger than Loki, stupid and scared of authorities and royals.

            “No, this is too strange. I don’t know you. I need to be alone sometimes, dammit. You’ve seen me piss, yet I still don’t know your name. You are not going to be in there as I-damn!” Loki growled a little and redid his pants, put back on his shirt and left the bathroom, picking a coat from a rack, and shoving his feet in a pair of worn boots, he turned back around to the guard. “What _is_ your name?”

            “Sir Stein, my prince.” He answered and Loki snickered at the way he talked to him.

            “Well, let’s go!” Loki exclaimed and dashed down the stairs and out of his chambers. He walked at a speed with great vigor and promise.

“Where are you going, my prince?” The guard asked while trying to keep up with Loki’s ridiculously fast trot. It was sad that this’d been the most interesting thing since his probation had begun.

            “’ _My prince, my prince_ ,’ Lords, would you stop?” Loki mocked, continuing without further acknowledging the words of his guard. He made his way to Thor’s room, which was down the grand hall and to the left of his.

            “Shouldn’t we have made an appointment to see the king?” The junior guard said, he clearly hadn’t been in his position for a while. He was much too formal.

            “Oh please, it’s only Thor,” Loki returned and banged heavily on the door. When there was no answer, he swiftly opened it, to which he was surprised to find unlocked and looked in amazement at Thor. He was sleeping, limbs sprawled across his red velvet bed covers, shirtless, his hair matted. He looked beautiful. But what was he doing asleep? It was past lunch. Loki could’ve stared at the gloriousness all day. He remembered when he used to wake up next to that sight, he’d wake up entangled in that sight. _Oh Thor,_ Loki reflected. _Where was there fault? Why did you have to damn leave?_ But Loki was not here to pout and wonder what could’ve been, he was here because that dumb kid wanted to watch him take a bath He was on probation, that he could understand. But wasn’t he entitled to _some_ privacy?  

            Loki first tapped his brother’s shoulder, but received no response. Stupid of him to think that would wake him, he realized, if the banging on the door didn’t. He looked at the young guard, Stein, how null he was. He could’ve at least been granted someone with a bit more experience and not some baby faced rookie that obviously knew nothing about the difference between Asgardian customs and the ways of life people lead.

            “Perhaps we should leave our king to rest.” Loki rolled his eyes.

            “Perhaps you should dunk yourself in a pool of serpents to die, perhaps you should let your sister engage in relations with your unborn child. My, do you ever shut up?” The guard no longer spoke and Loki sighed in his outburst, relieved to let off some of his irritation. “Wake up, you imbecile! Wake up!” He yelled and pulled on Thor’s bicep, slapping his cheek. “Wake up!” Thor finally opened his eyes and gave a huge yawn, stretching, strained and strenuous. He looked absolutely delectable. _Oh, quiet your lusts Loki, now is not the time._

            “What?” Thor asked.

            “Him! That idiot Stein! He won’t leave me be! I need to bathe, and he is not, by my heart and word going to supervise that!” Thor smiled, breathing a laugh.

            “That’s what he is supposed to do.”

            “Well he should learn to not be such a damn straight all the time.” Loki said honestly, and Thor finally stood from his bed. He didn’t say anymore and the three of them walked in silence to Loki’s room. Loki, entering first, Thor stood and talked to Stein, wording him off, he left the room, and Loki exhaled his aggravation with much relief. “Thank you, finally, some sensibility.”

            “Well come on.” Thor said, climbing the stairs, he leaned over the indoor balcony and Loki looked up at him, bewildered.

            “What?” Loki stood, brow crossed.

            “Well, I figured you wouldn’t enjoy the company of a stranger, so why not me? You’d be more comfortable with me, right? I’ve seen you bare before. Though, don’t expect me to replace Stein in comfort, every time this happens.” Loki’s heart did a quick little dance in his chest. He’d die if Thor did so celibately. Was he even referring to their relationship or merely their shared baths as children? Loki didn’t know. He wanted to smile a wise smile, maybe stride over to him, give him a long kiss and romp passionately in the bathroom, but instead he looked at him with false horror.

            “No! That’s even worse! You’re my—brother!” Loki shouted, and Thor raised his eyebrows. It was out before he could think and he immediately regretted it.

            “So, I am?” Thor asked. Loki swallowed. He couldn’t go back on that one. “Just come and take your bath. I’ll pay you no mind, don’t be such a child.” And he couldn’t reject that. With a snarl of synthetic scorn, Loki came up the steps and walked quietly in the bathroom. He ran hot water in the tub and breathed in steam as he removed his clothes from his back. He hadn’t thought of the fact that Thor hadn’t seen him naked since he was a skinny teenager. His body had changed a lot over the years. He was more built after all the wear and tear he’d been through. Wincing at the awkward realization, he huffed.

            “Could you at the least, turn the other way?” Loki requested and Thor smirked, finding the situation secretly amusing, he waved his hand, allowing.

            “As you wish.” He turned around, and Loki continued to shed his clothes until he was naked as the day he was born, well, aside from the chainmail on his wrists, he’d forgotten to ask Thor to take them off, and he wasn’t about to now that he was stark nude. Shrugging, he dipped into the steaming water, hissing at its bite and groaning at its warmth. He reached for the soap and made suds in his hand, rubbing it roughly into his skin and massaging it around his face. He wanted this to be over quickly.

            “This is absolutely ridiculous.” Loki murmured as he pushed more soap into his skin. Thor was giving off nonchalance, but Loki only felt awkward. “I’m an adult, if you really thought this necessary, why fix not fix me a bottle and bassinet? This is beyond boundaries!”

            “You should join mother and me for dinner.” Thor suggested, ignoring Loki’s rant. Loki nodded, nervous though he’d never admit it.

            “Will others attend?” Loki asked, finishing rinsing his hair. Thor shook his head.

            “No, just mother and I.” That would be a quiet meal, Loki figured. He didn’t know if that was such a good idea, considering the exclusiveness of it, but that was the exact reason Thor had invited him. He wanted Loki to be uncomfortable in the presence of those who loved him. He wanted him to see what he’d left behind, his family, his life, gifted by a royal simplicity. Maybe he could, oh Thor didn’t know, maybe he could show him hid faults, change him. It was a far fetched idea, a dream to have Loki back, but he couldn’t find it in him to give up.

            Loki exited the bath, padding his face into a deep brown towel, he hurried to dry himself. Wringing out his hair, Loki wrapped the towel along his waist and opened the door back to his bedroom, Thor following in an uneasy stillness. And seeing him like this, it made Thor think too. He hadn’t wanted to end those adolescent lusts. He’d thought of him, just as Loki had, and at this moment, he thought, what it would be like to close their space, wrap his arms around Loki and lightly line his neck with small, breathable kiss, and run warm fingers down his pale back. Odd, how even after all Loki’s atrocities, he still could lust for him the way he did.

            Loki entered his closet as to pick something to wear. The room was deep, next to his bathroom, darkly painted and dimly lit. He retrieved a pair of long black trousers, boots, and an olive shirt with sleeves stopping at the elbow, wearing an extravagant gold and black vest over it that stopped at his knee. Tugging it into place and smoothing wrinkles over his chest, he left out of his closet and waved his hands at Thor.

           “Be off now,” Thor curtsied patronizingly and left, letting the guard in.

            His brother was no less amusing when the better was got of him. Hopefully Loki could repent, feel some sort of remorse. _But this Loki,_ Thor considered while he dressed in his own closet, _I barely know him, he’s not the same person, it seems._ Maybe, deep down he was though. After all, Thor had seen him speak to his mother, and he still treated her like the queen she was. But, at the same time, he also didn’t know what to believe. What if it was all an act, a ploy to get them to trust him again, just to knock their heads in the dust once more? But he’d also seen Loki dead, he thought him dead when he fell from the Bifrost, and this time, he’d actually been dead for fifteen minutes. He’d tried to kill himself twice in less than three days, was that the act of a man who still pursued a throne that wasn’t his? _No, it was the acts of a man that wished to die._ Thor cursed Loki for his suicide attempts. He didn’t blame him, if he were to be sentenced an eternity to a prison for such heinous crimes, he’d probably find no reason to continue on either. But to think of his mother, father, their love, how could Loki reject that? _Maybe he does not feel worthy of it._ Thor offered to himself as he stuffed his feet in leather boots and tucked in a deep red tunic.  Still, even of that he could not be certain. Loki’s mind wasn’t a hard one to actually analyze, but to calculate his feelings based off said observations proved a pesky task.

           “Oh, Loki,” Thor voice to himself, and pinched his long sleeves down. He’d see him for dinner, Thor remembered and gave himself another glance in the mirror to make sure he looked all right, before heading out his large chambers, laid out much like Loki’s, but suited, of course, to his personal tastes. Now dressed, he made his way to Fandral, Sif, and Volstagg’s company, meeting them in the lounge hall, downstairs. He had no particular reason in mind to see his friends, but he didn’t want to spend his time alone. And the black haired prince he wanted to talk to, he’d already bothered today.

          “King Thor!” Volstagg shouted, playful and satirical. Thor smiled weakly; maybe he shouldn’t have come to see his war buddies. After all they could be a bit—candid. And Thor was a bit sensitive at the moment.

          “Temporarily,” he sat on a red cushioned chair. The room was lit only by the afternoon sun, darkened by large drapes. They all sat in furniture that faced a wide, crescent table and an assortment of wines and meads lined the base.

          “Maybe not, Odin is weak,” commented Fandral. Thor hardened his brow, Fandral, especially, could be outspoken.

          “Do not speak of the All Father as such.” Thor countered, aggravated with Fandral’s unwelcome honesty. “He may be older, but he is no more strong than when he fought the Jotüns in the Great War.” No one dared oppose Thor’s firmly put opinion, and only nods and glances were exchanged. It would be a good day, told by everyone’s’ lack of armor, all defenseless, only wearing fabrics and cloths. The days where they’d no metal gear were usually celebratory, good times. Sif was wearing a long red dress, decorated with patterned overlays and gold adornments. “Sif, you look lovely, is there any occasion?” Thor averted the subject to one of friendlier content. Sif broke into a wide grin.

        “Yes, actually, my family and I leave tonight to visit some very important Vanir me.” She answered, obviously excited. Thor was surprised that Sif hadn’t spoken earlier of this voyage.

        “Oh, well, be sure to give visit to Hogun, tell him Thor greets him.” Thor granted the girl, not looking at all like the fierce warrior she was.

        “You mean _King_ Thor, now.” She jested, mockingly and they all had a good laugh. They’d obviously been having fun with his new authority. Thor found it funny himself. Some years ago, a more arrogant, more irresponsible Thor would’ve succeeded the throne with much excitement and ill ambition, but this older, wiser Thor, ironically, was overwhelmed to possess such a burden. And the fact it had all been his suicidal brother’s fault only made the situation worse. “So, my _King_ , what has been your first command?” Sif pushed, though the question was obviously genuine, and the thought suddenly frightened Thor, freeing Loki was his first command. How was he to explain that to them? They’d think the throne sits him ill, _thought it does,_ Thor told himself, he couldn’t stand being king, it was so much responsibility, so much weight on his shoulders he didn’t know how to distribute. And maybe freeing Loki was a bad idea, but he’d taken high precautions. And of course, he didn’t do it, because he thought he’d changed, or had done no real wrong, for he had. But, he didn’t want a dead brother, to risk him being killed in prison, killing himself, or going mad in solitary confinement, he was already crazy enough, and visits obviously didn’t help, for he’d been visiting when he’d found him dead. Maybe it was a lost cause, but though Thor would say otherwise, he knew very well, that he cared simply too much about Loki to let him die.

        “Well,” and Thor, looking into all their expectant eyes, felt smothered. He had to tell them sooner or later. What if Loki came pacing through the halls to his room to complain about something else and Volstagg saw him coming down? He’d probably strangle him to near death. “Well, since you mentioned it, I did decree something,” Thor began, “the ordinance was to free, um, well not exactly free, it was to probate-”

        “Loki!” Fandral stood up with the word in his moth. Thor had never been good at easing into things. All faces dropped at the realization. “Am I wrong? Thor? You’ve let Loki go free!”

        “No, not entirely,” Thor coaxed, “Fandral, sit down, there’s really no need for all the excitement.” They all looked angry as ever, and Thor cleared his throat, settling himself. “He’s probated, and stripped of his magic. Bound by two bands to be surveillance at all times. He is not allowed anywhere, even his own bath chambers, without an escort.” Thor defended, though his friends were obviously not swayed by these precautions. “Listen, he tried to kill himself, twice. He had to be resuscitated. I didn’t know more to do.”

        “You should’ve let him die!” Volstagg exclaimed. “He’s killed so many!” And Thor, lips in a firm line, was growing tired of this ridicule and criticism.

        “So have you.” Thor stated, and they all sat, dumbfounded. “So have I, so has Sif, and so have you, Fandral. Though it may be under different circumstances, I know Loki is damaged, maybe lost, but perhaps if he is surrounded by things he is familiar with, he will, I don’t know-”

        “You still have hope he will change.” Sif simplified. Thor swallowed his spit, and his moth felt suddenly dry.

        “Just a little,” He reluctantly admitted, “Don’t be so quick to judge.” A stillness was in the air, they were still shaken by what’d he’d said before. Thor was right, they’d also ended many lives throughout their times as warriors, and though Loki still held perhaps a higher body count, they still had the fault of blood on their hands.

        “All right Thor, we all should give you the benefit of the doubt, I’m sorry for my outburst.” Fandral concluded, no one wished to have quarrel with Thor, so they left it at that, though none of them were too happy with their substitute king’s decision. Fandral plopped back in his seat and smirked a little. “So, he can be surveillance at all times?” Thor smiled.

        “Yes, my mother has given me this.” Thor pulled out a small metal bead mad from the same chain material as Loki’s bracelets. “It is a magic orb. It can create illusions; they are connected to Loki’s bands, which only mother and I can remove. I don’t know much about sorcery, but I mind it quite marvelous. It is as if to possess the power of the Vanir.” Thor expressed and rolled the bead in his palm, whispering an ancient word of the mystics and Light Elves, the bead glowed into an orb of light that floated in the air, and a small portion of their vision now saw Loki’s room. He was now standing in front of Sir Stein. He poked his chest with much force.

        “Why don’t you respond to anything I do?” Loki said, the warriors watched with light humor on their faces at Loki. Sif, on the other hand, glared at them, not at all assured by Thor’s explanation. She hated Loki more than the rest of them for reasons only she and Thor knew, thus he wasn’t surprised by her disdain to the spell playing out in front of them.

       “How should I respond, my price?” The young guard asked and Loki growled.

       “I don’t know do _something_.” Loki slapped him, still gaining no negative response from the soldier, though he did give him a slight look of annoyance.

       “My prince, could you please-” Loki slapped him again and laughed.

       “Hilarious, you can’t touch me, because if you do, Thor will murder you. I bet that’s what it is.” Loki laughed at his own conclusions. Fandral, Volstagg, and Thor exchanged glances of befuddled amusement. Thought the two friends erupted into hysteria when Loki kissed the soldier, frowning still when he ignored him. He couldn’t push him off, or be violent toward Loki, unless he was excessively violent to him or the king, as well as show any emotional interest. Loki, however, found the mess funny, that and the fact of his excruciating boredom.

       “I didn’t know Loki swung his sword in that direction!” Fandral remarked as they all laughed, even Sif, though she laughed for different reasons than Volstagg and Fandral. Thor remained silent, a bit sour. Was this jealousy, anger? It was something negative and he didn’t find it funny at all.

      “No, you can’t touch me unless…” Loki ran quickly to his bed, grabbing part of the canopy and wrapping it around his neck. The guard immediately made his way up the stairs and to the bed as though he was ready to rip the canopy from its frame, and Loki laughed, releasing the drape, and falling onto his mattress. “Oh please, I only did so because I know you’d intercept me. I don’t plan to kill myself again, you idiot.” Loki gave another chuckle. Sir Stein, obviously aggravated with Loki, gave a great sigh. “No, at least, not now…You hate me don’t you, a mad man like myself? You must hate me.” Loki smirked. Thor didn’t know why he was still watching, why he didn’t just put the bead away, but what Loki was doing only stirred more emotion in him. “I bet I could make you like me more.” Loki stood from his seat on the bed and gave a flirtatious grin, he rubbed his hand over the guard’s groin, who shied away, to which Loki gave another chortle. Sif was almost crying with laughter at Loki’s performance. Volstagg and Fandral only came to an awkward chuckle, and Thor said the same mantra, holding his hand beneath the bead, the illusion disappeared and the bead fell in his palm. His face was solid and frustrated. He was jealous, extremely, and mad. But everyone else was laughing with much entertainment.

      “Come now Thor, why the long face, that was rather entertaining, Loki slapping and touching the _guard_! The hilarity!” Thor did not find it funny at all, still he faked a smile and smile and stood to leave, Sif grabbed his elbow, still giggling like a flattered school girl.

     “Don’t be angry Thor, people move on.” Thor scowled with hatred, and spoke with pain.

     “Go to Vanaheim, Sif.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I was gonna post later, and it's 1:23 am, so I guess it would count as tomorrow, but...I'm still calling it later. I'll post another TOMORROW tomorrow, maybe two if I'm bored.
> 
> Oh yeah, drama in this short little chapter, feelings to be revealed, ooh scandalous!
> 
> Comment and Share! Do all the things!

           Thor had returned to his room flustered. And he didn’t know why, but he felt like crying. Him, the Mighty Thor felt like weeping as a child would, though he did not let tears fall. He felt so angry, so sad, and Sif? Sif could get his nerves more than Fandral at times. Stein, he’d appointed as Loki’s escort, he wouldn’t dare agree to such fraternization, would he? The exact reason he’d chosen Stein was because of his naïve, tenacious ways of enforcement. Would he fall into Loki’s wiles, or was Loki merely joking? He was laughing a lot. His feelings were all in a jam and he had the terrible feeling of betrayal settling within him. Why should he? Loki had not been his in a few hundred years. But still, Loki _was_ his, in his heart. He kept him somewhere, reserved for only him. He was his first, of course he felt protective over him, after the relationship they shared, how could he not? And then there was Jane, who’d been more of the sister he never had, until she kissed him that day he left to Asgard. She’d been a nice girl, and a great friend, but he still couldn’t past the sibling love, despite her affections, he’d simply never shared her passions. When she pulled him in for that kiss, he was more surprised than he’d probably ever been in his life. _I must have a fascination with strange incestuous relationships._ Thor assumed and shook his head at his thoughts. Maybe if he looked at Loki again, just to see what he was doing now. _Maybe I shouldn’t, no, I won’t…well maybe just for a second._ He took the bead out from his person and watched it float from his fingertips as he said the spell. It projected Loki lying on his couch, legs sprawled about, reading a novel. _Oh Good,_ Thor thought, _He isn’t having relations with Stein._ Thor laughed at himself, of course he wasn’t. Loki had to have been only joking. His paranoia had gotten the better of him. Thor sighed and put away the bead. Stein wasn’t good enough for Loki anyway. There’s no way he’d partake in any sort of relationship with a meager guard. Thor gave another chuckle, feeling increasingly foolish. No, Loki would never be with anyone less than a prince, or now, a king.

 

“Good evening mother,” Loki said, genuinely polite. He took a seat at the dark wood dining table, and Frigga smiled.

            “And to you, Loki,” Frigga returned and Thor sat across Loki. A pretty servant brought the oddly blended family their dinner, roasted goose, potatoes, along with a mix of different greens. It looked great, and the steam coming from it made Loki’s moth salivate horribly. He hadn’t ate a whole lot in the past couple days, mainly cheese, wine, and strawberries. Thus the meal filled him with much needed and very delicious nourishment. And a quietness that was neither uncomfortable nor casual sat upon them. What was there to talk about? The fact that Loki, hated by all, was now allowed to roam the halls of Asgard’s palace freely was a big deal, and Thor only dreaded his father to awaken and find Loki out of his cell.

            “What’ve you been doing this past week?” Frigga asked, trying to make some sort of dinner conversation, no matter how bland. “I haven’t seen you around the palace.” Loki finished a bite of meat, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a deeply colored napkin.

            “I’ve just stayed in my room. It’s been awfully boring.” Loki spoke and took a sip of his drink.

            “Well, maybe you should go outside, you look very pale.” Loki pursed his lips. His heart was contorting and tightening inside him. It was as though Thor and his mother had both reached in his chest and squeezed his heart. Here he was, sitting at the cozy dining table with his family, and they only treated him as that: family. He felt oceans and shores of guilt crash into him. How could he hurt these people? They cared for him like no other. Oh, damn those Chitauri! And damn his stupid young self trying to destroy Jotünheim!

            “Perhaps I will, tomorrow.” Loki surrendered. Maybe some fresh air would do him all right. But, he felt pretty unmotivated to go anywhere with Stein as his shadow.

            “I spoke with Sif today. She’s gone off to Vanaheim tonight,” offered Thor, Frigga smiled.

            “She’s made an honorable reputation throughout the realms.” Thor nodded.

            “Yes, definitely.” Loki looked at Thor questionably, it’s not that Thor liked Sif, Loki knew he didn’t, but he hadn’t heard him talk about her in a while and she _was_ always flirting with him. “So, Loki,” Thor tore into Loki’s thoughtful jealousy and replaced it with his own, “how are you and Stein getting along?” He hadn’t planned on asking, but his curiosity got the better of him. Loki rolled his eyes.

            “Oh, he’s a bore, to speak truly. I can’t stand the child.” Loki scowled, Thor Laughed. _Good, good._ Frigga, however, frowned.

            “Come now Loki, try to be civil with the young man.” And at those words, Loki smiled, the tightness in his chest growing. She talked to him as she did when he was a boy, getting into petty fights with school boys and little warriors.

            “Yes mother,” Loki complied, the small smile still gracing his lips at his mother’s concern. But his smile fell at the thought of Odin, and he felt obliged to ask if he was all right, but he didn’t. He didn’t wish to add darkness to such a light hearted conversation. He’d visit him soon enough, see how he was for himself. So, instead, they became enthralled in a conversation about the past, as do most when the present is too sad a story to focus on. They shared stories, laughing at past failures and victories, Frigga even shared a few personal accounts from when she was but a young girl, bashful and quiet. The dinner had been lovely, but as it got late, Frigga retired to her room, bidding both of them goodnight, Thor and Loki sat alone in the dining room, the table had long since been cleared, and they’d made themselves comfortable. Loki had removed his vest and it lay slung over the back of his chair. And seeing Loki there, it was like seeing him in some refreshing new air, a new sense. Thor didn’t know what it was about it, but in that moment, he reminded him of a young Loki, when they were still young and lovesick, running about the kingdom.

            The most beautiful he remembered seeing him, was when they were still both adolescents. Ironically, it was before their odd affair had begun. Loki was outside, thin limbed and shining in the sun. He was wearing nothing but a cotton shirt and trousers. He’d been washing his horse, a blond stallion with black eyes in a small pool behind the palace. His clothes clung to him oddly where they were wet, and he smiled and giggled at the beast when it snorted or whinnied. He loved that horse, Estlor. He’d never let anyone else tend to him and he had been devastated when he died. And after Estlor was clean, and Loki had tied him to the post, he sat and dried himself off in the sun, taking off his wet shirt, he lay on his back, elbows by his head, he laid in the grass by the pool, glistening and alabaster. Thor wished some talented artist could have captured that scene on canvas.

            And now here Loki was, older, mightier, meaner, and still just as beautiful as he remembered him. Thor took notice of his staring after a while and was glad Loki hadn’t.

            “Do you recall the time we wandered into Midgard with father?” Thor began, Loki smiled. “As children, I mean.”

            “Yes, if I recall, you were scared of one of those miniature felines.” They both laughed, a sad laugh, quiet and pained. “Or when we were pubescent teens and threw apples at passersby?” Thor’s eyes widened in reminiscence.

            “Oh, I nearly forgot,” And then with some fidgeting, they both glanced at the bowl of fruit on the wall table across them, smiling a knowing smile. They both grabbed a handful. Loki took a cord of grapes, and two pomegranates, Thor took three apples and a bundle of bananas, they walked out onto the balcony, Loki, strategically dangled the grapes over the railing, waiting for a guard to walk past, a nobleman, someone. And before they knew it, an entire troop marched underneath and they threw the food wildly at them. Grapes splattered on helmets, apples thudded on shoulders, and bananas squashed into chests. Loki and his brother quickly ducked down, laughing silent laughs like unsophisticated children. There was a blur in the moment, a blur to reality, a blur to the fact of Loki’s wrongdoings, and a blur to Thor’s position as king. The guards cursed and growled from below, and the boys continued in their discomposure, chuckling quietly.

            “Oh, Hel!” Thor said, breaking from his hilarious stupor. “I’ve missed you and your tricks, brother.” Loki grinned sadly. This was too much. Why was it as though nothing had changed between them? There should’ve been foul words, anger, argument, but instead they laughed, and cheered, guards were littered with juice and fruit flesh. Loki suddenly had this feeling of rocks settling in his stomach, his heart that had already been torn and pinched and twisted tonight began to thud too fast, and despite all the emotion that swelled inside him, he managed to stow it away and remain his charade of composure.

            “I’ve missed you as well.” Loki had stopped laughing, his face now holding serious tones. Thor’s chuckling died as well, and he looked at Loki with disappointment and distaste.

            “Why’ve you done this?” Thor demanded in a helpless voice, Loki’s wince was shrouded in the dark of night.

            “Thor,” Loki tried to start, still not sure what to say without sounding like he was a beggar, pleading for forgiveness. “Thor,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes and hugging his knees. “When I sent the destroyer, I was a child, a stupid child. I wanted to prove to father that I could do something. I wanted to make him proud,” Loki stammered, “and I was angry with you that you-”

            “That I what?” Thor asked, offended, “What’ve I ever done to you?” Loki didn’t want to start this as it was part of a very larger conversation that his feeble mind simply could not handle. Thor continued. “And if _that_ is all that motivated you, why have you gone and destroyed part of Earth?” Loki sighed and visions of a world untold and creatures unknown made him shudder.

            “Thor,” Loki turned more directly to his brother, sitting with his legs folded, “You don’t know what I’ve been through, what I’ve experience, what I was influenced by, there was one thing I only ever really wanted. I realize that now. I can’t explain everything, and by saying all this, I’m not discrediting myself, or saying I’m not responsible, for I know I am, but please do know, it wasn’t _all_ me, and that I miss this too, I miss,” Loki  hesitated, nervous of its interpretation before he said it, “everything.” His next words however, surprised even himself, “And though I speak sincere in my apologies, I know you may never believe them, so I say, brother, anyway, I’m sorry.” Loki stood, thinking his time overdue, about to retire to his chambers. Thor stood too and took Loki’s wrist before he could walk away.

            “Wait Loki, you haven’t answered me what I’ve done wrong? What could I have possibly done wrong?” Loki felt a bit wounded by Thor’s ignorance, finding it a real measure of how much their relationship had meant to the blond fool. Loki rested a hand on Thor’s shoulder and whispered, “Goodnight, brother.” He left with Stein by his side, and as Thor stayed in his tracks, hurt and confused, though a bit relieved by his brother’s apology, it only gave him grounds to ask more questions.

 

The next morning Loki woke with a light and it shined too bright through his windows, only reminding him of the previous night’s bad dream. Breakfast was brought to him by a friendly maiden with red hair that blushed when he smiled at her; obviously she knew nothing of his crimes. He took the meal graciously and sat quietly at his small table on the lower level of his chamber.  Stein stood silently at the wall and Loki, taking a bite of toast, asked him to draw the drapes and he did so swiftly, to which Loki grimaced at. _The boy is much too eager_. Loki took a bite of diced strawberries and crème when Thor knocked on his door, completely dressed, Stein let him in, and Loki, mid-chew, glared curiously at him.

            “What?” Loki asked, he was still in nothing but his night clothes, which consisted only of a pair of black silk pants. Not like it mattered, Thor had seen him in less, and in less innocent situations.

            “I was wondering if we could go for a walk. I’d like to speak with you.” Loki swallowed his food and wrinkled his eyebrows together.

            “All right, why not here? I’m not properly dressed.”

            “No, I’d like to go somewhere else.” Thor insisted, there was clearly no negotiating on his word, so Loki only nodded, took a sip of his water and stood to get dressed, smirking to himself when Stein came after him, and Thor’s irritated voice scared the young guard when he said, “He can dress himself, I’m sure.”

            So Loki came out wearing something much more princely than he did the day before, considering he’d be leaving the privacy of the palace. He combed his tousled hair back and followed his brother’s side, Stein stayed behind them. The two brothers walked from Loki’s room and through the palace’s entrance, they strolled through the courtyard. Loki kicked distractedly at pebbles under his feet and stared at baby blue skies.

            “Well, what did you want to speak of?” Loki asked, Thor’s gaze, stern and knowing seemed to address it though. “What more is there to say?”

            “Everything!” Thor exclaimed. “What did you mean when you said you aren’t entirely responsible? What have I not seen?” Thor pressed. Loki knew that his prying was natural, to be expected, but it made it no less aggravating.

            “Things Thor, awful things, that you and you dimwit will never come to experience, not that I’d wish it on you, or anyone. I had to be conditioned Thor, they did things to numb me, to strengthen me physically, and mentally.” Loki paused, “I was vulnerable with every revelation that surfaced, and they took advantage of it, of course the mind stone did things as well. I don’t know what more to say.”

            “What did they do to prepare you? Who are they? It can’t have been so bad as you to see no wrong in your—murders.” It’s not that Loki didn’t know what more to say, it’s that he really didn’t want to. He hated these memories that stayed with him everywhere, he could find no peace. When he was awake he could at least see past them, but when he was sleeping his dreams were filled with those evil memories, landscapes of torture and debasement, he rubbed his tired temple.

            “Did I say I see no wrong in it Thor? Did I? I know, all right? I know what I did, You do not have to continuously remind me.” Thor became less forceful and whispered a quick sorry under his breath. “Thanos and the Chitauri lead me. They did a series of rituals to prepare me.” Loki answered and put up his shield, strong enough to keep out anyone, even the man he loved. He was done revealing himself. He wanted no more of it. To dig deeper would be too dangerous, even strong Asgardian minds had their limits.

            “What rituals?” Thor pressed, and Loki grinded his teeth together.

            “Nothing for you to mind,” Loki spat, but Thor only became defensive.

            “No, it is mine to mind. What’ve they done to you? Why don’t you speak?” Loki became increasingly impatient, it was too early to be pestered over matters that one does not wish to even acknowledge.

            “I don’t want you to, all right! I don’t want you to see me differently.” Loki pleaded. Thor too, became irritated by this conversation. Why must Loki be so difficult and secretive? He was probably the closest person to him and yet he still couldn’t answer him a few questions. He only wanted to help Loki, to help and understand him. And how was he to understand if Loki wouldn’t even grant him the basic history he needed to see him? Why did he insist on hiding himself? Thor grew angry too, standing directly in front of Loki, and grimacing.

            “I already see you differently. I know you aren’t the same man you are now, Loki” Loki laughed.

            “I rather you think me a monster than think me weak.” And at that, the question was no more to ask. Anymore pushing and Loki would clearly burst, and Thor couldn’t risk Loki turning back into that distant, cold maniac again. He would admit to thinking Loki was a bit on the psychological pitfall of things, though he would never say him to be a monster. He wasn’t a monster, he was heartbroken, and Thor wasn’t the wisest of the Aesir, but he could clearly see that.

            “Alright, but answer me this, and I’ll ask no more of you.” Thor waited for his brother’s approval.

            “What is it Thor?” Loki allowed, Thor swallowed.

            “What did _I_ do? What have I done to hurt you?” This question angered Loki more than the others. It did not anger him, it filled him with a branching sheet of fire and a tangle of thorns. How could everything they shared, everything they lost be so easily passed by him? _It wasn’t a terrible loss to him,_ Loki surmised.

            “You _really_ don’t know.” Thor’s throat caught.

            “No, Loki, I don’t.” And with that, Loki grabbed the front of Thor’s shirt in fistfuls, his nails biting into Thor’s chest. Oh God, he hadn’t been so close to him in forever it seemed. _You’re angry at him, dammit, don’t be so distracted._

            “You left me.” It was a whisper, a sullen grudge in three words, and Thor’s eyes softened and saddened. His eyes were like blue ice and the ocean, it met no other color, and Loki looked into them with rage and love, passion and hate.

            “Oh.” Thor said, his voice cut into him like knives. _He still cared?_ Thor thought after all these years Loki had forgotten. Did he truly matter? He’d angered him because of the abandonment. Thor had taught himself to admire Loki from afar. He’d done so before the affair, and when it’d ended he’d done the same. But he was not Loki, and Loki was not him. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to react? It’d been so long, if Loki kissed him he’d die. He hadn’t felt or fondled his raven haired brother in so long, it’d be different now, they were adults. He didn’t know what to say or how to react. Loki sighed and let go, acknowledging the many noble pedestrians crossing their way.

            “And you couldn’t even give me the decency of an explanation.” Loki’s eyes were red with hostility.

            “Loki,” Thor began and rested his hand on Loki’s neck. “Oh, Loki.” Loki looked out of his line of sight. He couldn’t bear to see his face. It was out now, he still loved him, loved him more than a brother should love a brother. Thor only gave another brush of his thumb along Loki’s neck, before he gestured a guard his way. Loki was a loss for words, his eyes stung, and with the guard as his escort, he dashed to his room, fell to his bed, and cried.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically a chapter of some flashbacks and stuffs.  
> This chapter and the next were supposed to be the same one, but I split them up, so here ya go.
> 
> Comment and Share.

          These tears were not small either. They weren’t the soft sobbing he’d done when he was having a bad dream, nor were they the silent tears he cried playing the harp, when he woke to his mother. They were angry, red, and something violent of a cry. He had a chance, a chance, or at least, he’d thought he did for some sort of stupid redemption. But all he got was a look and the pitiful humming of Thor’s cold words, stinging his ears. _Oh, Loki._ The thought made him heave and scream even more into the streets. He felt so idiotic, and so pissed at himself. What was going through his mind when he said that? Did he think that Thor would somehow forget all that’s happen in the past few years? Was he expecting him to come running into his arms and declare his love with sweet kisses, and a warm embrace? No, he wasn’t expecting that, but he didn’t exactly expect the quiet, detached reaction Thor had given him. He regretted even ever saying anything, he should’ve kept to his room, avoided the conversation, shut himself in, but then he’d seem like even more a coward than he’d already made himself out to be. And Thor, he had Jane now, he had moved on, why couldn’t Loki? And he couldn’t stand that he couldn’t even be alone while he made a weeping fool of himself, Stein stood downstairs. Norns, his entire life just seemed a long episode of pain. It was built on it, for pain caressed his insides as did the blood through his veins. He found himself even more lost, for without Thor by his side, or perhaps, without the hope he would be there someday, why should’ve he gone on? Why’d the stupid oaf have to find him that day in the dungeons, couldn’t he just have died peacefully?

            They’d talked so much of forever as kids, maybe it had set him up for this heart ache. They used to go on, in when they were younger about how they’d make it last, maybe go somewhere where their parents wouldn’t die of disgust at their sons. It was of course, impulsive, dumb, childish ambition, but, that was part of the beauty of being so young and in love; there were no obstacles. As long as they had each other, they seemed invincible. Of course this proved false when they broke off their relationship, but before it’d been so simple. They’d muse, and dream together, talk of their real aspirations, what really mattered. And looking back, Loki hadn’t even thought twice about the throne then, all he cared about was if they could still be together, and be happy.

            “I can’t believe this,” he’d said one night on their balcony, it was a few weeks after their first time together and the real weight of their affair was finally settling in. “Dammit, what are we doing?” Thor came out when he’d said it and wrapped his arms around his skinny brother’s waist, soaking in his warm scent.

            “What is it, Loki?” Thor had asked with lazy, tired eyes, ready to shut and sleep. Loki sighed and turned around, facing his older sibling with worry and pain in his heart.

            “This, everything, I mean, how could we ever keep this up?” Loki looked at the ground, unable to look at the face of his newly made lover, and Thor’s heart felt a shock of worry as well.

            “Would you like to no longer have this relationship, Loki?” Thor asked bravely, Loki had always granted him that sense of bravery, he’d never be able to ask Thor that, he’d be much too scared he’d say yes and never speak to him again.

            “No, no, that’s just it. I want this for as long as it could possibly be, think of all those who would hate us if we came out about this. I’m saying, how long is this really going to last?” Loki had spoke with sullen distrust and little faith in their love. But, how could it? They knew their father, their mother, how they would be horrified to think of their _incest_. What of their friends? They’d all be disgusted. The two beloved princes would become more than an outcast, they’d become fools, an object to laugh at, the punch line to every joke. And of course, at the time, they’d no knowledge of Loki’s adoption, only worsening their view of the situation.

            “Loki, listen, what if, when we were a bit older, had a bit more substance, went off to somewhere else, perhaps another realm?” Loki scoffed.

            “Run away, like star crossed lovers, and risk everything?” Thor, ran his thumb along the hair behind Loki’s ear, and nodded, sure of himself.

            “I would for you.” But Thor could be so rash, so reckless, and inconsiderate of things he’d leave behind, Loki knew that this plan of his could obviously never come to pass, but Thor’s ambitions were part of what made him so attractive.

            “And who would be left to run the kingdom?” Loki asked.

            “They’d find someone.” Loki shook his head and laughed a little, Thor joining in with his own sad chuckle, “We could be like this forever, if we did leave.”

            “Forever,” Loki snickered, and closed their space, unwilling to hear the products of his brother’s hopeful mind any longer. He brought him into a long kiss that they took back into their bedroom.

            And now Loki lay, wishing if only their affair could’ve lasted longer, maybe they could’ve gone somewhere else. Maybe if he hadn’t gone mad, he could’ve gone about telling Thor his lasting affections differently, and maybe it would’ve all worked out. But, it’d been so long, Thor must have wanted nothing to do with him, at least in that department. And these thoughts did nothing to help his pathetic soul, and as he gave a growl of disapproval he called for Stein.

            Stein walked up the stairs with an unsure, almost scared face. Of course, he had every right to, since it was rare Loki called to him without inserting some insult or the other. Though, Loki did not have necessarily harmful intentions. Well, they might’ve been a bit harmful to himself, emotionally, but Loki was already damaged enough, what was one more dent? Not thinking any longer, he tugged on Stein’s neck, and removed his helmet. He was a handsome kid, light blond hair, blue eyes, incomparable to Thor’s. And Loki’s affections meant nothing of course, but he couldn’t stand the ripples of pain that coated his spirits. He just needed to feel _something,_ even if it was the simple sensation of skin on skin.

            “I’m sorry, for everything I’ve said to you, how I’ve treated you, I mean.” Loki told the boy, it wasn’t all false, he acknowledged that’d he’d been rude, he’d been a royal pain, but he didn’t exactly regret it. Then again, he was Loki, and he didn’t care much about telling the truth, he never had. The boy did not jerk away this time when Loki pulled him toward him and planted his lips on Sir Stein’s. He pulled him onto the bed, over him, but quickly flipped them over so he was on top, dominate. He had to at least save some dignity if he was going to do this. His submission was only to Thor, that much he had to keep. His lips fell upon Stein’s and Stein pressed his back, they moved in an empty osculation, and Loki only pressed his lips harder at the lack of feeling. He still felt just as vacant. _Something,_ he tried as he dipped his tongue in the younger man’s mouth, _something_ , he pushed grabbing Stein’s groin. But he still had nothing to feel. This mimicry of love only made him feel worse, and though he and Thor no longer shared commitments, he felt like he was being unfaithful. He couldn’t go through with it. So before things got too heated, he broke himself from the embrace and Stein looked at him speculatively

            “Have I done something?” He asked and Loki shook his head. How stupid he was to try and sleep with his guard as a means of comfort?

            “No, you haven’t done anything. It’s what I’ve done. Here,” Loki handed the soldier back his helmet. Stein only blushed bashfully. Loki, looking back, was pretty surprised he’d allow him to go as far as to kiss him, yesterday he’d seemed anything but interested, yet the color in his cheeks only showed he’d wanted this as much as Loki thought, he, himself did.

            “Well, it’s probably best I do not engage in the prince of Asgard.” The guard considered, and stood from his slouch on the bed. Loki wanted to grant him farewell, ask him to leave, but he had an obligation to be there. Instead, Loki chewed the inside of his cheek, and gave an offer.

            “How’d you say, if I called for a maiden to bring us something to drink?” Stein considered. He’d probably get in trouble for being intoxicated in uniform, but after the week he’d had, he really could use a drink.

            “Yes, I think I’d like that.”

Thor had hurried back to his room, head in his hands, pacing around his quarters. He wanted to throw something, or demolish a wall with his hammer. He felt so stupid, so naïve. After all these years Loki had love him still? How could he be so oblivious? Had he known Loki still loved him, years ago, he would’ve rushed to his room, lifted him and kissed him heavily. But now, it’d been so long, and things had changed, he’d changed. He was no longer the school boy prince he’d been when they’d lain together. He was a warrior, a temporary king. He couldn’t let these guilty pleasures grace him again. What would Asgard think of a king that slipped to his brother’s room to fondle him in the quiet of night? It’d have to remain a secret of course, sibling incest, was forbidden, criminal. Not that Thor would begin such an affair again, could he? He didn’t know if he could stand the shudders of pleasure he’d receive from Loki’s touch. He almost moaned at his memories of adolescent young boys writhing in pain and gratification.

            The first time they were drunk, laughing a lot as they removed each other’s shirts and undid each other’s belts. Their eyes hazed with an intoxicated blur as they kissed and sucked on each other’s necks and collar bones. Thor, whispering slurred sweet nothings in Loki’s ear, and Loki, returned them with boyish giggles and kisses. And when it’d happened, using just the wetness of spit and comfortable embrace, it’d left Loki sore, and both of them sated. And though the next morning had been a peaceful and lazy day, they were still left asking how it’d happened, what it all meant and if it was really worth pursuing.

            “Was it your first time?” Thor had asked Loki as they lay in bed, Loki’s head rested on Thor’s arm and he poked at the veins in his biceps.

            “Why do you ask?” Loki inquired, feeling slightly invaded, despite its ridiculousness. He really shouldn’t have felt anymore invaded after what they had done the previous night. Still, there was something personal about the question that Loki greeted with a grimace. Thor, however, simply laughed, and told him why.

            “It was mine.” Loki smiled with a sort of relief, he suddenly felt foolish for his defensiveness.

            “Oh.” He said quietly, nibbling the inside of his cheek.

            “So was it?” Loki sighed and nodded, a bit embarrassed, despite Thor revealing it to be his first time too. “So, what’s all this mean?”

            “I don’t know,” Loki slung his arm over his face, “What are we going to do?”

            “Well, did you enjoy what happened last night?” Thor asked and Loki nodded. Thor took a deep breath, uneasy as though he was about to ask someone out, and in a sense, he was  “Why don’t we try this for a while?” Loki moved his arm and sat up, looking at Thor, a bit shocked and more than worried at the situation they were putting themselves in.

            “Try what some-relationship?” Loki laughed to mask how nervous he was by asking the question.

            “Yes, Loki,” Thor laughed too, “a relationship!”

            “What if mother and father find out? Thor, this is one hell of a risk.” Loki sighed, he didn’t want to say it, but at the time Loki saw it as their best option, and in hindsight, maybe it was, “I think we should put this off as a big mistake, and forget it ever happened.” Thor looked at him, hurt.

            “No,, I refuse to do that. By the nine, Loki, we can keep it a secret, we share our quarters, keeping this a secret will prove simple I’m sure.” Thor tried, he wanted this, one taste of it, and he was addicted. Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was disgusting, but Thor couldn’t care less. He wanted to be with his brother, and he felt no shame in saying it. Loki, on the other hand, had seen the complications, the immorality and the views that would be held against them should anyone discover their affair. Still, it was probably one of the best nights of his life. Did he really want to give that up based on trivial worry? No, he didn’t, unfair it was, that forbidden fruit somehow tasted the sweetest.

            “All right, we’ll try—whatever this madness is called.” Loki had relented and Thor smiled, pressing his lips to his younger brother’s forcefully, before he pushed him back into the bed, hovering over him, he kissed from his lips to his jaw, trailing his mouth further down Loki’s neck.

            “Are you sore?” He asked, and Loki lied, knowing he’d stop if he told the truth.

            “No, no, I’m fine, keep going.” He’d pushed for Thor to continue, and Thor did so fully.

            They never really accomplished a whole lot through talking, Thor came to realize. They had many arguments, but never solved much, he figured that was with all adolescents. And though the talk they had that morning was slightly strange, and a bit useless, he cherished the memory no less. And thinking of it, of everything, of Loki’s declaration of his anger toward him for leaving, there was one person still caught in the middle of it that hadn’t been addressed, and that, of course, was Heimdall. The All Seeing Eye, the gatekeeper with more real authority than any advisor, or any prince, no matter what Odin _said_ , Heimdall’s word often came before anyone else’s. And, Thor had to wonder, how, if he could see everything in the universe, he hadn’t told anyone of he and Loki’s months of lust.

            He had to talk to him about it, and he didn’t want to seem like he was asking his permission to continue their relationship, but once his mind was at ease, he couldn’t help but think of how he could explain everything to Loki. It was something huge to get into again, but Thor knew if he had the chance to lay with Loki again, as lovers do, he would take that opportunity as soon as it presented itself. It’d been painful enough staying away from him all those years, never telling him why he had to end things so abruptly. But, now that he knew Loki had loved him all along, how could he not pursue what made him so happy? And maybe he was still impulsive, maybe reengaging himself in this sort of relationship with his brother was something he ought not to do, but it was rarer for Thor to listen to his mind, than for him to ignore the direction of his heart.

            He walked with medium steps to the bridge. Half of him wanted to get this conversation over with, and the other half of him wanted to not have it at all. How was he supposed to approach Heimdall with something like this? How was he to react, if Heimdall’s response was excessively negative? Obviously, Thor wasn’t the best at reacting to things, as he’d had no other words to say but, “Oh, Loki,” when Loki had finally revealed what had changed him so bitterly. He’d said more than he was willing to offer, and all Thor could return was, “Oh, Loki.” Norns, how he wished he could’ve thought of something else to say. He didn’t know why he didn’t just tell him the reason why he left then and there, but he didn’t have the time to ask himself these questions. He needed to focus on what he’d say to Heimdall, he’d figure out what he’d say to Loki later, regardless of how things went with the gatekeeper.

            Heimdall stood, his dark skin, like velvet and his gold eyes lighting his face. Those eyes were Asgard’s best asset, and Thor’s greatest fear. They had seen parts of Thor’s life that no one else had, and the thought was a bit threatening. His steps became smaller once he’d reached the gate, and he could sense the smile on the gatekeeper’s face while he approached, so Thor forced a smile of his own. He stood side the man with his hands folded behind him. He was at least to say, a bit anxious.

            “Greetings Heimdall,” Thor acknowledged, and Heimdall nodded with his same friendly grin.

            “And to you, my _King,_ ” He exaggerated, and Thor shook his head, chuckling.

            “Not you too, everyone finds this new position of mine hilarious, except me.” Heimdall nodded.

            “Well, it is unexpected, and hopefully only for a little longer. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened with Loki. His mind his fragile, tipped to fall, thin and easily shattered, like a crystal glass.” Thor swallowed his heart and took a deep breath. He’d reached his subject matter, before he could.

            “Yes,” Thor paused, stalling his real question, “tell me, do you think Loki truly repents his crimes?” Heimdall huffed, considering.

            “I do think he realizes some his faults, part the reason he acts the way he does comes from his excessive pride, the other mainly comes from an absence, his feeling of a lost asset.” Heimdall looked to Thor with knowing eyes as he said the word. He could see all, and sometimes, Thor wondered if he could read all. It seemed he knew the reason he’d come to speak with him. And well, he couldn’t be angry at the man, he’d opened a window for Thor, to finally speak the matter that mattered.

            “Heimdall, that’s what I’ve come to speak of with you.” Heimdall, being a bit cheeky, raised his eyebrows,

            “Speak of what?” Thor cracked his knuckles, and pushed on the inside of his top lip with his tongue.

            “Loki and I, you must’ve known of our time together, as there is none a secret that gets passed your eye. Why didn’t you say anything?” Thor said, and released his breath with the question, relieved it was out. Heimdall shrugged.

            “Nobody asked, it had nothing to do with me, it hurt no one. I’d no reason to say a word.” Thor raised his eyebrows.

            “Are you saying, if someone asked you’d tell them?” Heimdall tilted his head.

            “Depending on the person.” Thor nodded, for that was all he needed, and he was off. “You’re going to see him.”

            “Aye, I am, and not in any other sense, but the one we’ve shared.” Heimdall only smiled to himself, and made sure to not focus his sight on them for the next few hours.

 

Thor walked through the halls, now giving himself the time to think of what he’d say to Loki. He was hard to approach. There was no telling how he’d react, and sometimes Thor didn’t even know if he was really the same person. What could he do? Have a quiet secretive dinner, and declare his feelings, propose something, talk it through? That may have worked when Loki was a shy, cynical teenager, but now he was an angry, cynical adult. This Loki would roll his eyes at such romanticism, and laugh at any lovely seriousness Thor gave. What was he to do? Thor wasn’t charismatic, that was _Loki’s_ thing. He had to explain first, he knew that much, he had to tell him why he’d acted the way he’d acted. Yes, he’d explain, apologize, and seduce. He simplified it heavily, but he couldn’t bother to worry himself out of it. So, he put away the rest of his noisy mind and made his way to Loki’s room, when his mother caught him in the hall.

            “Thor! I was just looking for you. The council requests your presence. It seemed an important meeting.” Frigga spoke, Thor sighed. There were so many things he had to do as king. He wasn’t used to so much being expected of him.        

           “Yes, all right, I’ll attend to them.” Thor answered. Loki would have to wait.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, had to change the rating, you guys should know what that means. And WARNING: I'm pretty bad at writing sex scenes, but I tried pretty hard on this, so bear with me. 2nd WARNING: EXPLICIT content in this chapter (duh)

          Thor was becoming restless in these meetings. It was one after the other, and they’d unintentionally run all night. He’d spoken to way too many stuck up, privileged Asgardians, about ordinances and trade that had been increasingly trivial. Odin would deal with everything of the sort when he woke, but Thor hadn’t kept up with anything they were talking about. It was also hard to sit through all of their governmental nonsense, when his mind was plagued by thoughts of Loki, what would he say? He hadn’t intended to draw out his thoughts to his decision, but this meeting was making it that way. He’d created a million speeches in his mind, with it, thinking the reaction Loki might have. He imagined the worst possible, the best possible, and everything in between, but he still had no idea as to what he’d actually say. And toward the end of his last meeting, he’d stopped trying. It’d all be said on a whim, though he figured it wasn’t all bad, maybe more natural.

            “So, my king, do you agree with our council?” spoke an old man with sharp canines and wispy hair. Thor had barely caught the question, and he looked to him with raised eyebrows, he cleared his throat.

            “Um, yes, I , I do agree, because, it only makes,” Thor stammered, “well, it only makes sense, to do what we will do in accordance to the situation—at hand.” The old man smiled, though Thor had no idea of what he agreed to, but it obviously held no importance as it bored him to bawling.

            “Great, then it is settled!” The councilman boomed, and Thor stood, slapping him on the back.

            “Aye it is! Now, let’s all call the night and retire!” Thor declared, irking to get out of the cramped, dull Asgardian conference room. They all exchanged embraces and smiles as they ended the meeting. And once they’d dispersed, he made his way to Loki’s room, prompt and determined, not allowing himself to think another second, knowing he’d definitely turn around out of fear. And he inwardly had cringed when Sif’s smiling face greeted him in the hall. The universe seemed to work against him today. Faking a small smile, he greeted her hastily, “Hello, Sif, back from Vanaheim already?”

            “Of course, I was only there for a day, _my king._ Where are you in a rush to?” Thor swallowed, not willing to deal with her interrogation.

            “Does it rightly matter?” Thor pushed, and Sif pursed her lips, rolling her eyes.

            “You’re going to see _him_.” But, Thor’s mind was much too preoccupied to deal with her nonsense.

            “Aye I am, and I’ll not take any of your ridicule, Lady Sif, farewell.” He continued, earning a glare that he didn’t mind, and paced faster to Loki’s door, hopefully he wouldn’t be asleep.

 

Loki laughed, and took another sip of drink, while Stein, beginning to get a little tipsy asked him questions of his life. Loki was becoming less and less hateful of the man as they spoke. At first it was awkward, considering they’d just nearly slept together, but after the ice had been broken they’d begun nice small talk, while sitting at Loki’s dining table. They snacked on fruit and wheat toast.

            “So, what is it like past the nine realms?” Stein asked, and Loki took another small sip of his drink. The question wasn’t exactly one he greeted with happiness or enthusiasm, still he answered.

            “Well, it’s not exactly, welcoming. I rather not talk about it actually.” Loki sighed, moving his fingers over the grooves of his cup, “So, you said your mother was a seamstress?”

            “Ah, yes, she made gorgeous gowns, but, she died just last year.” He spoke sullenly.

           “If you don’t mind my asking, how?” Stein nodded with a grim smile on his lips.

          “Not at all, you see, she often made her own fabrics. She’d gone to find a certain silk on a hill a few miles from our home, she said it was stronger, the silkworms healthier, or the other. Anyway, she died while looking, she fell into the other side, and crashed into some rocks below the bank, where the hill ended.” Stein explained and looked with thought into the table. Loki only felt worse, and angrier at himself for treating the man so harshly. He must’ve been so annoying to him. Loki frowned and laid his hand on Stein’s.

            “I’m sorry to hear that,” and before Loki could get out another word, there was heavy banging on his door, demanding and too quick. Stein stood to answer it, but Loki shook his head. “No it’s all right, I’ll get it.” Loki crossed the broadness of his room in long strides and cracked the door open, opening it wider when he saw Thor’s nervous eyes. He obviously hadn’t expected Loki to answer the door and he swallowed his Adam’s apple. “What?” Thor’s breath caught and he stumbled to speak. He still hadn’t said anything and he suddenly found himself mute and terrified. “Well what is it, Thor?” Thor, looked into the room, behind Loki and saw Stein, sitting at the table, drink in hand, he furrowed his brow, and yelled across the room.

            “Sir Stein, I need to speak with my brother alone, please leave.” Stein stood timidly and did as told, Thor entering as he left. He turned to Loki with his same lost and anxious eyes. He shut the door behind him and locked it, feeling less insecure about what he was trying to say. He was fine before, telling himself that it’d be easy, that he’d talk to Loki, and things would be sorted out, but as soon as he saw his face, he’d froze.

            “What are you doing?” Thor still hadn’t addressed Loki, and instead, stared at him with the same dumbly scared expression on his face. “Thor, are you going to say anything?” Thor, not knowing what else to do, but looking at him only brought the thought into him, his fair skin, his blue eyes, that confused and aggravated look on his face. He pulled on the sides of Loki’s face and pressed his lips firmly to his. Loki, not sure how to react, deciding if he should be happy, or angry, or sad, only found himself confused, and extremely, relieved.

            The kiss was all too familiar, like a ghost kiss, still left with remnants of years ago. He should be happy. Thor was _kissing_ him, Thor was _kissing_ him, but it only busied his mind more and left him with a thousand questions. He’d thought himself dumb when Thor looked with those pitiful eyes in the courtyard and rubbed his thumb into his neck and whispered his name. But, now, what did this mean? If he was bold enough to do this then why would he ever break things off in the first place? Loki pushed Thor away, and Thor’s demeanor seemed ridden with shock at his own actions.

            He’d kissed him, he’d kissed him dammit, he’d completely skipped the talking, and _kissed_ him, but how could he not? He couldn’t stand it, Loki had looked too perfect in that moment, and he’d lost the words to speak. He knew Loki still gave care about their adolescent affair, which had stuck with them both, and then he stood there, like that, like he was waiting to be kissed and break the spell of confusion, when really it’d only amplified it. Thor closed his eyes and gave a deep exhale.

            “Wha-why? You look me in the eye this morning, all pathetic and pitying and then, well, explain yourself.” Loki demanded, and crossed his arms.

            “Sif found out,” Thor breathed, “she saw us in the Garden one day, she threatened to tell Father, and I was dim. I couldn’t see her threats empty and ill. I had to end our affair, but, but in all honesty I’ve missed you since then. Loki, I’m sorry this has all happened, and whatever happened to you with the Chitauri, or this man, Thanos, that you speak of. And I’m sorry I never told you what happened, why I left, I thought I was protecting us. I’m sorry, but I still want this, if you do.” He seemed to say it all at once in a single breath, terrified of Loki’s response. And Loki, was overcome with the same mute disease Thor had had when he walked in. He cleared his throat, finding it within himself to walk to the door and see Stein.

            “Stein, Thor dismisses you, you may leave.” Stein didn’t bother to ask for any further confirmation, as he was sensing something was going on that he shouldn’t ask questions about. He gave a prompt, polite nod and a small salute before turning the other way and disappearing around the corner of the hall. Loki locked the door back, and turned to Thor, speaking monotonous, “If I don’t have these on,” He held up his wrists, “do they still work, when they’re just, lying around?” Thor cocked an eyebrow, and answered, measured.

            “No, no you must be wearing them.” Loki exhaled.

            “Then take them off.” Thor, now understanding, removed the chainmail cuffs and set them on the table next to them. “Are you sure we should get ourselves into this again?” Loki asked and Thor shook his head.

            “I’m not sure of anything Loki, but it’s what I want. I’ve been too far from you for too long.” Loki hardened his brows and his eyes lit with heat.

            “And whose fault is that? Why didn’t you say anything before? I’ve been the one waiting, and wanting this entire time, and you’ve sat, doing nothing but thinking of the stupid words of a dumb girl?” Thor swallowed.

            “Well, once I’d matured a bit more, realized she probably wouldn’t have done anything, and if she tried, I could’ve easily countered her, I thought you’d want nothing to do with me.” Loki shook his head, and held the palm of his hand at the back of Thor’s neck. “Loki, I’m sorry I just was trying to be-”

            “Shut up, you idiot,” Loki pulled Thor in fast, and the kiss lingered where it should have. There was something in it, release, forgiveness, whatever you think should be found in that kiss was there, and Loki, his hand felt the goose bumps that Thor’s skin had caught, and Thor exchanged the feel of Loki’s skin, feeling new scars and old ones, familiarity and renewal held them and Loki broke the kiss. His eyes like ice, Thor noticed, and ran his thumb along Loki’s jaw. Loki crossed his arms at the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, throwing on the ground, he made his way up the steps, and leaned against the post of his bed, laughing into it, and smiling in disbelief. He could barely think that it’d happened, he’d kissed him, they’d kissed, after centuries, succumbed to fraternal pecks and embraces, it was happening.“Well, are you going to join me?” Thor, meeting Loki’s wicked gleam, shot it back, and removed his own shirt with a tug. He ascended the staircase and walked with sure steps to his younger brother. He smelled like soap and skin, and Thor was immediately intoxicated by it.

            His nails made impressions on Loki’s bicep when he grabbed his arm, and pulled him to his chest. His breath was hot, close on his jaw, and Thor buried his head in Loki’s neck, lining his throat with wet and firm kisses. Loki felt all his senses come alive and he moved his hand over the muscles in Thor’s back, feeling skin and muscle he hadn’t felt against his own in what seemed like forever. Was this right? Was this smart? He didn’t know, he just knew it felt good and he didn’t want it to end, he never had, and now that he was here, in Thor’s arms again, drinking in his kiss, and he didn’t know what the repercussions would be, but he couldn’t care at this point. And all thoughts of morality and punishment had fled when Thor nibbled at the little bit of flesh behind his ear, licking at his earlobe, Loki grunted, feeling the bite go through his every fiber.

           Thor lightly pushed him into the black silk sheets, and Loki grabbed at his shoulders, their lips coming together again, Thor’s tongue licked the creases in Loki’s lip, before it slipped into his mouth, exchanging the taste of saliva and mead. Thor’s hand ran delicate, quick and light, brushing the little bit of hair underneath Loki’s navel and he slid those same soft fingertips into Loki’s pants, reaching for him, Loki bruised his lips more into the kiss, digesting every bit of Thor he could receive.

           He moved his hand along him, he was already hard, and Thor could feel the hot blood rushing through him, the sensation only wetting his mouth even more with excitement. He palmed at him, and Loki tugged his head from Thor, needing breath as his gasps were becoming much more prevalent as Thor continued his handwork. Thor smiled a little to himself, and kissed the groove between Loki’s chest. He undid the ties at the front of his pants and pulled them off. Loki kicked off his boots, and Thor did as well, leaving him barefoot, but still with his pants, upsetting Loki.

           “Take them off,” demanded Loki, and Thor chuckled a little bit, swiveling his legs out of his trousers, Loki chewed on the inside of his cheek. “We’re doing this.” Thor nodded.

          “Yes, we are,”

          “No going back,”

          “No, no going back, and I’d never wish to.” Thor bowed his head to meet Loki and kissed his hot tip, red and swelling, blue veins extending themselves, he kissed at the sides of his member, tasting of it, salty and wet with spit and pre-cum. He moved his entire mouth around his head, and felt it touch the back of his throat, barring his teeth, he stroked his mouth along Loki and sucked the skin, pressing his tongue around, moving it along him, Loki pulled hard on Thor’s hair, the painful grasp only igniting more arousal in Thor, and he surfaced, using the wetness of saliva and pre-cum, he slicked Loki’s entrance, and rubbed the excess on himself, his foreskin pulling tightly along his solid organ. Thor kissed him once more, Loki tasting his own salty sweetness, as Thor aligned himself, his front pushing in, and filling him. Loki grabbed at the skin of Thor’s back roughly. His lips holding Thor’s when he first had started to move. He hadn’t done this in so long, he was tight, and the feeling of having Thor inside him felt more foreign.

         He moved with smooth and slow strokes. They weren’t forceful and they weren’t abrupt. Loki absorbed it all, it seeped into his bones, and once he’d adjusted, he encouraged him to move faster. Thor did so with fragility and carefulness, not wanting to damage Loki anymore than he already was. He moved in and out of Loki with more vigor, feeling the new effort, Loki dragged his nails against Thor’s friction, making angry red marks along his untouched back, Thor’s breath had become quicker, and Loki braced himself, knowing he was reaching his limit. He touched himself as he watched his foster brother’s face contort with release, and he suddenly felt fuller than before, Loki placed another kiss on Thor’s lips, and Thor pulled out.

        Loki, still not satisfied, was granted Thor’s tongue once more, lapping at the wetness and taste of him, he drunk more and more of Loki until he was completely down his throat. Thor gagged, moving his hand at the base and sucking harder on the tip. He looked to Loki, his pink nipples, his pleasured face, his underarms, sprinkled with silky black hair. He came into his mouth in sections, his come oozed, and Thor swallowed what hit the back of his throat, and anything that caught in the crevices of his mouth. Loki, pulling even harder at Thor’s hair when it hit him. He removed his mouth from Loki, and Loki pulled Thor’s head into his shoulder, their bodies cooling, mellowing. Their eyelids became heavy, and Thor pulled the black sheet over them.

      “Damn.” Loki said, worn, and Thor was almost too tired to laugh, managing a small chuckle, muffled by Loki’s hair.

      “Damn.”


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you guys, I apologize for my absence. To be honest, a foreign exchange student friend of mine is moving back and I just really wanted to spend time with her, so yeah. I'll try to post again tomorrow, thanks for being patient with me.
> 
> Enjoy, comment, share, all that stuff! :)

            When Loki woke, he first felt heat, from both the morning sun, and Thor’s sticky skin. Loki pressed his hands to Thor’s chest, trying to shrug him off without waking him. Though he failed terribly, and Thor stretched awake. And Loki was faced with the fact, looking at Thor, that this was not a dream. They had just opened up a door they could not easily close. This moment had let it soak all in, the pain, the elation, and the fact that what they had done would define them forever.

            Thor looked at Loki with admiration, and a bit of bewilderment. He hadn’t seen him like this, naked, vulnerable, sunlight caressing and highlighting his body in so long, in what had seemed like forever. He’d grown, he was no longer the skinny, fauntlet like teenager he’d fondled so many years ago. He was tall, handsome, and masculine. Gleaming at him, he tugged at Loki’s thigh, surprising himself more, his legs all supple and muscular. In their uncalculated, fervent romp, he hadn’t taken the good time to feel and notice the differences in his brother. Thor laughed out loud; yes he certainly wasn’t his _little_ brother anymore.

            “Do you find me amusing?” Grilled Loki, offended in a confused way. Thor shook his head.

            “No Loki,” Thor started, “you’ve just grown, I hadn’t notice how much you’ve changed.” Loki pursed his lips.

            “Well, it has been a good few centuries,” Loki sighed, “and you’ve changed some too.” Thor chuckled.

            “How so?” Loki immediately ran his fingers through Thor’s stubble.

            “This for one, you’re skin had sprouted nothing when we were mere adolescents. Your skin used to be as soft as a child’s hind.” Loki slapped Thor’s cheek lightly and continued with the circles he drew on Thor’s chest.

            “Well, did you prefer me that way?” Loki shrugged.

            “It doesn’t matter,” Loki blew out his breath, and felt his stomach quivering inside of him, “Thor, dammit, look what we’ve started again.” Thor rolled his eyes, pulling harsher on Loki’s leg.

            “ _It doesn’t matter,_ ” Thor said, using his own words against him, “This is what we both chose, we both wanted.” Loki nodded.

            “Yes, that’s not what I was getting at. This will be even more impossible to hide now, and under what possible circumstance could we live, how long could this continue?” Thor shook his head and continued to move his hand along Loki, not willing to listen to his constant pessimism.

            “We’ll see wherever it takes us. Let us not focus on the future, but on the present.” Loki had to smile at that, Thor the dreamer, the uplifter, the Golden son of Odin, he was too perfect for him. He kissed his jaw, and, Thor returned it with one on Loki’s lips, kissing again, their sticky morning lips wet one another lazily. Loki held his lover close while they osculated, tongues rolling along one another like an ebbing shore. And Loki, playfully aggressive, tugged on Thor’s bottom lip with his teeth, and Thor gave out a chortling cry, “Ah, Loki.” Loki chuckled to himself, and Thor smiled, small and content. Perhaps this was all he needed, him. Thor had not seen Loki smile as much as he had in these moments, genuinely and not deranged in the last thousand years. But, this time his smile held true happiness, and the dopey grace of the morning’s glory was all they needed.

 

After taking a rather distracting bath with one another, dressing themselves (Loki condemned to those silver manacles) they ate breakfast quietly together, brought to them by the same red haired maiden that had served him before. They ate warm toast and cut apples for breakfast. Loki still thought of their previous conversation, despite Thor telling him to put it to rest. Could this go on forever? Evenings of love making and comfortable breakfasts in the morning? Though Loki, especially thought of what would end it. Nothing turned out well for him. When would this beauty die? Not wanting to think up answers to his question, he asked Thor a much simpler one.

            “What’ve you to do today?” Loki voiced, breaking the stillness. Thor wiped at his mouth before speaking.

            “I’ve more meetings this evening, dinner with mother again, and I was thinking about going to the field for conditioning, after this. Why don’t you join me?” Thor returned, sipping a glass of water. Loki made a face of consideration and nodded.

            “Yes, I’ll join you, for both—dinner, and the field, I mean,” Loki paused before saying, “that is, as long as I don’t have to see anyone I once knew there.”

            Thor and Loki finished their breakfast and made their way to the fighting grounds. Thor feeling the urge to press his hand into the small of Loki’s back, though he repressed the feeling and greeted the overseer of the grounds, a burly man that seemed too tall, and wore too long a beard. Loki cracked his knuckles while Thor spoke with him.

            “Aidragh! Nice seeing you again!” Thor greeted, slapping the man’s forearm. Loki feeling a bit uncomfortable in the area, he hadn’t been around a whole lot of—people in a while. He’d stayed confined to simple maidens, Stein, Thor, and his mother. Being around an entire arena of fighting warriors and sparring soldiers, none he hoped would recognize him of course. It was a bit overwhelming to newly-made-free Loki.

            “And to you King Thor, a game you seek? A good, reckless fight?” Aidragh gave, and Thor nodded.

            “Of sorts yes, of sorts, good Aidragh, enroll us to spar. I and my brother here, Loki.” Loki looked around the arena, they stood at the observation balcony which held higher than the other surrounding ground, from it, one was given a bird’s eye view, and Loki looked with intensity at the brunette girl, armored and sweaty taking down a training soldier. He looked at her hard enough to kill her. Sif. They’d never gotten along in the first place, they were always fighting as kids, arguing, the two had simply never found much of a common ground. However, now that he was aware of her involvement in his heartache, now that he knew of her instigation toward the most painful part of his pubescence, and that she’d held ransom on their secret, he hated her more than ever.

            “Ah yes, he’s the fellow that tried to destroy all the realms and such,” said Aidragh with a grin. Thor laughed nervously.

            “Well, yes, but he’s recently been treated and probated.” The overseer nodded and let out a satisfied and appreciative grunt.

            “By and by, they all turn around.” Thor smiled.

            Loki was still staring at her. It was like the entire realm had stood still, and he was a fuse being lit by the anger of seeing her there. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to see her and interact, for he knew he would surely start a pissing contest, and she with him, or if that’s why he wanted to see her. And if she were the one to start it, Loki would only return it much harder. Though, the thought did bring him to come to a mischievous smile. _I bet the wench is jealous,_ thought Loki, _it’s no secret she was interested in Thor, I bet her knowing about us, infuriates her._ And the thought _elated_ Loki. He had the advantage, all he had to do was dangle Thor in front of her like he was a piece of shiny jewelry and she’d get angry, his mere presence pissed her off, and the thought satisfied Loki too much.

            Finally she’d won the damn brawl and sheathed her staff, taking her turn to look around, it didn’t take her very long to find Loki with her eyes and roll them, glowering cruelly. Loki smiled with hatred. He’d made up his mind, and he was going to go talk to her. He walked down the small staircase that lead to the dirt pit full of soldiers fighting and he greeted her sportily, a half grin gracing his face, she cleaned her weapon case and continued on, Loki following her with a false humbleness. Thor had finished his talk with Aidragh, and he’d gone to reserve a fighting station.

            “What Loki?” Sif questioned, exasperated. Loki broadened his smile.

            “Hello Sif, you seem a bit tense with me, why so sullen a face?’ Sif looked to the ceiling and turned her heel to Loki, crossing her arms.

            “What are you on about Loki?” Loki gave a sarcastic chuckle

            “I’m on about nothing, other than the beauty of this day, and your envy, of course.” He spat and she hardened her brow.

            “Are you speaking of, Thor? Because, if so, what you two do is disgusting, you’re brothers.” Sif answered, clearly wanting to end this antagonistic conversation, but Loki wasn’t having any of it.

            “I didn’t say you were envious of us, but of me, for I’ve come to relate with the man, you’ve been drooling over like dogs for the past few centuries. And you know, we’re but brothers by law. He never held any interest it you, you know, he’s told me what he thought of you. He said-”

            “Loki!” Thor called, approaching the two. “Loki, I thought you didn’t want to speak with anyone.” Loki smiled at Sif, not breaking eye contact with her.

            “Yes, but I’ve made an exception for dear Lady Sif here.” Thor sensed this wasn’t a healthy conversation, and lead Loki away.

            “Well, all right, but let’s be around to our arena.” Sif scowled at them and Loki simply smiled with himself. It seemed old things that needed to be dealt with were getting dealt with every day, this time around. How much further could he push his luck?

 

“I could help you, you know, I’d like something to do, rather than sitting around bored all day.” Loki had told Thor after they’d finished with their fights and made their way down the hall. Thor smiled, and slung an arm around Loki with brotherly detachment that didn’t make the gesture suspicious.

            “All right, there is something I could have you do, though I don’t think you’d like it, considering you said you wanted to avoid anyone you used to know,” Loki rolled his eyes.

            “Oh never mind it, what is it you need?” Loki pushed, picking at the edges of his bracelet. Thor sighed.

            “I need you to take a bit of equipment to Fandral, he’s leading the trip to Vanaheim, tomorrow and he needs it to help restrain some of the prisoners we’re taking into our custody.” Thor explained and Loki nodded.

            “All right, where is it?” Thor tugged Loki’s sleeve, and lead him to a dimly lit room close to the gate. The walls were damp stone, and the floors hard, and musty. It was filled with shelves of equipment, boxed in crates, some gold, and some wooden and old looking. There also lined heavy books caked with dust that probably hadn’t been touched in literal centuries. The entire room was less then inviting, and Loki couldn’t help the grimace across his face.

            “Here,” Thor handed Loki a crate, gold and metallic with small etchings in the corners, and Loki took it, the weight of it surprising him, it was filled with metal, chains, unfriendly cuffs, as well as rope. Loki’s eyes widened at the equipment, it seemed a bit much for a simple round up.

            “All this to secure some Vanir criminals?” Loki asked, and Thor smiled.

            “Some of them are very big, creatures, giant like, rough. Now, I should be off to my first administrative meeting of the day.” Thor said, lingering in Loki’s presence, he hesitated, scared to do so at first, but willing to take the risk without removing Loki’s cuffs, he caught a quick kiss in the dankness of the storage room, and Loki gave small grin.

            “All right, I’ll go take these to Fandral.” Loki readjusted the box in his grip, and stepped out of the room, appreciating the scent of simple, unclogged air as he made his way to Fandral’s quarters, somewhere downstairs, as was the living quarters of all honorary palace residents, he didn’t know where else he should take them to, and he certainly didn’t know why he’d need it now, and not tomorrow, but he really didn’t care to ask questions. He simply planned on dropping it off, and leaving as soon as possible. He could already imagine how awkward the encounter would be as he walked there. Fandral would probably be slightly angry, uncomfortable, he’d take the package with a tight lipped “thank you, Loki,” and Loki would inwardly cringe at the man.

            He reached Fandral’s chamber, and took careful steps down a flight of stairs to reach the hall. His door was heavy, shiny wood, and Loki knocked on it with his elbow. Fandral’s response was delayed and detached, and Loki gave a huff as he said, “Um, yes? Who is it?” Loki squinted his eyes and shook his head.

            “It’s me!” He yelled through the door, hopefully Fandral still remembered the sound of his voice. After all, it’d been quite a while. He did though, and he spoke, unsteady and unsure.

            “L-Loki? Is that you?” Loki grunted, and used his knee to assist with his grip of the box.

            “Yes, don't be alarmed, I won't kill you this time around.” Loki spoke, sarcastic and aggravated, and finally, Fandral opened the door, wide enough to let him in once he saw what Loki carried. Loki set the box down near a wooden kitchen island and dusted his hands along one another.

            “Oh, thank you, that is my equipment for the, for the capture tomorrow.” Loki nodded, awkward, just as he anticipated.

            “Quite.” Fandral crossed his arms, obviously nervous.

            “Well, well, how have you been Loki? Free and all?” Loki breathed a laugh and raised his hands, surrendering himself.

            “It’s all right, I understand if you don’t want to speak with me, I only came, to bring you that, Thor asked me too.” Loki turned to leave; not willing to deal with Fandral’s fidgeting sullenness.

            “Well, it’s just that I was surprised when Thor told us his news.” Loki turned back around, facing him, he shrugged.

            “Thor’s not exactly known for his smart decisions. Still, I am confined to these shackles.” Loki held his wrists and shook them. Fandral nodded, a blush rising in his cheeks, as he remembered Thor’s demonstration and the pictures it had shown, unbidden, a smile crept upon his face.

            “Yes,” Fandral held in a laugh as he continued, “So, Loki, I mean, I never knew you-” Loki looked at Fandral hard, curious and unknowing if he should soon be offended.

            “Never knew I what?” Loki asked with venom.

            “I never knew you, well, you liked men,” Loki opened his mouth to speak, about to swear at him or Thor, if he’d told him, curse at him and tell him to never tell anyone, but Fandral continued, cutting him from any protest, “I’m sorry, I mean, Thor showed us how they worked, and you were kissing the guard, I only.” And Loki’s face split in two with a smile. _Stein?_ _The guard?_ A shiver of relief washed over him, he didn’t know about he and Thor, of course he didn’t know, how would he know? _Well, Sif could have told him, Thor could have told him, Stein could’ve gossiped about the odd way he was shoved from the room last night._ But they hadn’t, and they still remained their confidentiality. Loki couldn’t help but give a small, relieved chuckle himself.

            “Yes, well, when you get so tired of doing nothing, one has to entertain themselves somehow. Oh my,” and Loki both bitterly wanted to know this, and felt insecure asking it, “what did Thor think? He probably laughed a riot.” Fandral snorted and shook his head.

            “Quite the contrary, in all honesty, we were all laughing, Volstagg, Sif and myself, however, Thor just assumed anger, and stormed out.” Loki nodded, _interesting._ “I just think he didn’t want us laughing at you. You know he cares for you an awful lot Loki, despite everything, his hope is odd, it irks me at times.” Loki nodded, looking at the ground, considering himself.

            “Yes, he does, the fool.” He had though. He had done nothing but care, and forgive, and forget. And, at times, Loki could barely understand it. He wasn’t even sure if he himself could forgive someone as much as Thor had forgiven him. He’d hesitated leaving with a sweetheart’s kiss, for the sake of Odin, Thor was so ridden with hope, and the heart of a dreamer, Loki wondered if it was sometimes ill lead. For, it was due to Thor’s same hope, that he’d only been salvaged from one conflict, and put right back into another. It was a constant loop of chaos, it seemed. “Well, I better be off, farewell, Fandral.” Loki gave a careless salute and left promptly shutting the door, careful not to slam it, he made his way back up the stairs, yes, it was definitely not the conversation he was expecting from Fandral, but it did give him a bit of amusement. Thor had been jealous? That explained why he’d barked so harshly, for Stein to get out the previous night, or why he yelled at him when he was nearly going to follow Loki into his closet. The brute was jealous, and Loki couldn’t help but snicker a bit at the thought.

 

“That’s a dumb thing to get jealous of, you know.” He said, leaning against the door frame of the council room. Thor finished writing on a crisp paper, and looked up at Loki.

            “What is? Why are you here?” Thor asked, and Loki smirked.

            “I was just waiting up for you, and Stein, Thor, I’d never engage myself in a guard, and if I did, would you really have means to be angry after waiting all this time?” Thor shook his head, and stood.

            “Fandral told you of that, didn’t he?” Thor sighed, “Well could you blame me? I doubt you’d react much different.” Thor walked to the entrance of the room and kissed Loki harshly, “Now come, let’s meet with mother, for dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, basically sort of a--I don't like to say filler, but it is mainly there to just move things along. Next chapter some stuff is gonna be goin' on, I'm exhausted, it's like 1:31 am, so I'm going to go ahead and apologize for any errors I may not have caught while editing. See ya.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always end up posting in the middle of the fuckin night. Damn. Here's a chapter, a lil fifty shades goin' on here. Hope you like. Sorry if there's any errors, once again it's almost morning and I still haven't slept, so yeah. 
> 
> Comment and Share

            Thor and Loki sat quietly at the dinner table. They were served greatly, greens, heavy potatoes and pheasant. Though, the quiet of the room was heavy with strangeness. It was suffocating Loki, and he couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. But, he suddenly felt like a kid again, giving each other knowing glances at the dinner, while their parents discussed matters of rule and political obligation. They’d look at each other with steamy, hot eyes, and sly smirks, for they knew what they’d be doing when they returned to their room. But, this was not the sensual, sexual aura that hugged them then. Nor was it a dark sullen silence lead only by the pains of the past. This quiet was full with substance of reignited secrets and uncomfortable truths that only they knew. And, Loki, pondering the atmosphere, suddenly realized that it was bad, that it was harmful and damaging, because he began to laugh under his breath.

            Thor looked at him questioningly, and Loki merely shook his head, waved his hand and told him to forget it. Their mother looked at them both, confused and suspicious glances, that were quick and cut off as soon as Loki stopped his strange chuckle. But, he could barely help it. It wasn’t funny, it was madness, and maybe this only proved how crazy he was, but he could not help but find the fact that they’d been kissing and loving last night, and sat here now, celibate and with a charade of docile brotherly love. Thor immediately realized the reason to his odd laugh, and couldn’t help the failed suppress of a grin grace his face. How did they keep this up for eight months as practical children?

            “I’m sorry I didn’t get the punch line. My, something has you two acting strange.” Frigga finally said, and Loki nodded, washing down a bite of potato with a long swig of dark wine.

            “Yes, aye, mother, you are right. My apologies.” Loki kept as quiet as he could from then on, though the same smile, pinched and unwelcome came. It was only when he looked to Thor, that he was at it again, nearly choking, he started laughing. Though, this time it was not the quiet laugh of embarrassment, but brash, mad chuckling that caught in his chest.

            “So, mother, how- how was your day?” asked Thor, unintentionally letting a smile and a laugh come through his question, and he was suddenly joining in with Loki. And though Frigga far from understood their craziness, she couldn’t exactly be angry. It was nice to see Loki laughing, happy, for whatever reason. And, she gave a few nervous giggles herself, before the boys finally came down from their hysteria and washed it away with sips of drink. Loki finally had let it out, and rested his chin in his hand, while the remnants of their episode concluded, diffusing themselves through the air.

            “Yes, so I gave Fandral all he needed for his trip, why, why is he doing it?” Loki asked, and though they hadn’t been talking of anything before, he felt as though he was changing the subject. Thor exhaled the last bit of it and spoke.

            “Well I’d do it, if I was still in the name of prince, but my new position has made me much too preoccupied, he volunteered.” Loki nodded, thanking himself and the Norns for sparing him from any further humiliation.

            “Oh, how generous of him.” After Frigga finished her meal, she tried not to look too eager to dismiss herself, but the two young men she raised were acting rather odd. She excused herself with a smile and gave a light squeeze of their shoulders before going back to her room. Leaving Loki and Thor to themselves, which was probably best. Loki sighed, and pulled his hands over his face.

            “I’m sorry, I don’t know, I just, phew.” Thor gave a light hearted chuckle and understanding smile.

            “No, no I understand.” Loki finished off his drink and stood to leave, about to retire to his own room, and Thor pulled on Loki’s wrist. “Where are you going?” Loki looked back to Thor, smiling.

            “I’m going to my quarters.” Loki answered simply and Thor raised a brow.

            “Come here,” Thor pulled Loki’s neck, and extended his, kissing him softly at first, Loki moved his lips against Thor’s in compliance. Thor, continuing with his kiss, unrelenting and absorbing. He needed his contact at a constant, and he knew he was getting a little too comfortable with his affections while Loki had his wristbands on, but going so long without someone, he needed a reminder that it wasn’t dead. He took Loki’s hands carefully, and slid the shackles off like butter. He stuffed them in his coat pocket, never breaking their lips’ embrace. He stood, and forced it more.

            The gesture now held more heat and Thor pushed Loki into a wall, Loki wrapping his arms up Thor’s back. All caution lost, their lips like two interlocking parts, a key in its place. Thor pulled on Loki’s hair, and moved it out of the way of his neck, sucking it, and then, nibbling at the corner of his ear. Loki moaned, and rolled his head to the side, his eyes moving lazily across the room, panning over the candle light, the gold platters, the dark wood, the center pieces, plant and the maiden standing in the doorway staring at them. _Fuck._ Loki pushed away Thor like he was an illness, and shoved him out of the way. He knew they were being too risky with their PDA, and Thor looked to her with horror. Her eyes were big in her face and her cheeks had been drained of all color.

            “Um, my lords, I’ll, I’ll just be leaving.” But before she could turn around and flee with fear, Loki snatched her forearm.

            “No, stay a minute.” Loki looked to Thor and Thor returned his gaze with a stern, shock, and a bit of fear. “Well, darling, you saw us, we have to kill you.” Loki spoke, taking the knife from the table, and Thor looked to him with hurt. Thor should’ve known if Loki really wanted to hurt the girl he could’ve easily done so without a simple steak knife.

            “What-” Loki gave a harsh, warning grimace, and Thor finally caught on. “Yes, a shame really.”

            “No! Please, don’t, my King, spare me, I will not speak a word!” Loki twisted the girl’s arm and tightened his grasp, threatening.

            “Not a word. Do you understand? If you let out a mere breath of this, you’re dead.” Loki warned, and the girl nodded with tears in her eyes. Thor understood Loki’s motive, and maybe it was necessary, but it made it no less uncomfortable. Still, he reinforced Loki’s words.

            “If you tell anyone, it would be very bad for us, as well as you.” Loki scowled, now letting the girl go, she held her skirts and ran out quickly. “Do you think she’ll say anything?”

            “I think she’ll be too afraid to, at least that’s what I’m hoping.” Thor sighed, nerves swarming in his stomach. He couldn’t stand the thought of this getting out. It’d be controversy, drama, Asgard would rebel against its royal family. Maybe it’d be a bit much, but if they were to find out the prince-now-King of Asgard was now secretly involved with his brother, there would be much hell to pay. And if his parents found out, that would prove worse, he knew. They’d probably execute Loki, that would finally push them to do it. “Dammit, Thor, you cannot be so reckless and impulsive.” Thor was still looking past Loki with thought as he scolded him, and still, he couldn’t bear to wait any longer. Still, he needed to feel his skin against his, and feel the quick breath of life that Loki would pant on his shoulder. He’d thought Loki dead too many times for his heart to withstand.

            “Come,” Thor took Loki’s hand and dragged him quickly out of their family dining room and into the hall, moving with fast steps that Loki ran behind, his hand still clasped in Thor’s, they made it down to Thor’s chamber.

            “What is your rush, Thor?” Loki demanded as he was practically dragged across the chamber. Though as soon as Thor’s door was open and they were both inside, Thor pressed Loki against the wall with need, hunger, and a stalking, predatory look in his eyes, before their mouths came together. Dancing like demons, they moved, sliding against each other, Loki drew his tongue, and Thor pressed his into Loki’s the heat of their lips making them firm. Thor slid off a thick vest, Loki’s wristlets falling from the pocket of it, and made off with his boots as well, kicking them off and forcing them into a corner. “You do hear, though don’t you? Thor? We can’t let anyone else find out.” Loki said in between Thor’s rough kisses, Thor grunted something that sounded like agreement, before withdrawing once more to remove his shirt. Loki rolled his eyes, aggravated.“You understand?”

            “Yes, yes I know, I’m sorry, I won’t let it happen. I’ll be more careful, now quiet, and take this off.” Thor said, while desperately prying at Loki’s clothes. Loki relented a chuckle and assisted, sliding off his own jacket and shirt. Staring at Thor with reassured security, as well as arousal, he yanked the sides of his jaw back into their kiss. They traveled slowly and without caution, and with much purpose up the stairs, their lips not leaving each other’s for more than a second. Loki pushed Thor onto the bed and smirked. He took off his belt and took both of Thor’s hands roughly into his, pushing them up together against the bedpost, he wrapped the belt around both, and fastened it, binding Thor’s hands above him. He then, ran back downstairs. Thor laughing down at him, as Loki grabbed the sash that held his jacket together. He ascended the staircase once more and tied the sash like a blindfold around his brother’s face. Smiling with pride in his work, he finished undressing himself, and did the same to Thor.

            “Can you see anything?” Loki asked, now straddling Thor. Thor snorted a laugh and shook his head.

            “No, Loki.” Loki smiled again, placing smooth breaths and small blows of wind on Thor’s collar bone.

            “Good.” Loki kissed from Thor’s neck, sucking at the skin, he trailed feather light kisses, and grazed his finger nails down his chest and abdomen, feeling up his bound arms, and back down to his hipbones, holding his legs and massaging little circles with his thumbs. Thor sighed, twitching at the heady contact, making his mind swirl and dissolve into moment. The sight was like magic to Loki, seeing the mighty Thor, helpless at his fingertips. Loki continued with the sensual torture. He explored and scavenged Thor, discovering new veins and scars; he ran his fingers along the fine hair that sprinkled his body, doing so painfully slow. Thor releasing a grunting moan, when he finally tugged at Thor’s pubic hair, Loki’s warm breath hitting on Thor, making him gasp. Loki kissed up and down along his shaft, soft and pecking kisses that grated Thor with anticipation.

            “Loki,” he’d grunted impatiently, and Loki finally granted him relief, wrapping his thin lips around him, he licked at Thor, swiping his tongue around the red tip, feeling it make contact with the back of his throat, grazing against the rough of his mouth, and lightly tugging at the foreskin. Loki cupped the rest of him in his hands, moving them around between his fingers. He moved himself at a quicker pace, pushing Thor, who was grumbling profanities in between raspy breaths until Loki grew bored of the sensation and surfaced, salivating his hand, he lubricated his bottom, straddling him once more, he aligned himself, sinking down, his muscles clenching, his insides quivering as he did so. Thor tensed at the contact, his hands gripping at his restraints and turning his knuckles white.

            Loki pulled back the blindfold, all mystery lost as he rolled his hip back and forth, sliding up and down, Thor taking air in gulps. Loki’s forehead met with Thor’s intense eyes, blue into blue, before crushing their mouths into one another’s, kissing with their eyes now squeezed shut with passion and effort while Loki rode onto Thor’s cock. He moved at differing speeds, all the while working toward his own release. His muscles straining to do so much at once, and Thor lay in content as his brother’s backside thrust along his pelvis. The tension that held them began to become less and less noticeable, and it seemed as though their release could be their death.

            Loki, finally undid Thor’s hands, which immediately found Loki’s backside, he pushed into him, as Loki continued his grinding. The two working hard, their skin beaded with sweat, their hair sticking against their faces unflatteringly, Loki finally came between them, gasping lips found one another again, moaning into them. Thor convulsed, letting Loki become full with him. Loki collapsed into Thor’s chest. They laid together in a heap of sweat, flesh, and ejaculate. Loki and Thor both winced as Loki removed himself, severing their connection he laid next to Thor, his vision of the red drapes was blurring terribly. And after recovering for a few more moments Thor pinched the candle next to his bed, which worked to turn off all the lights in his room. Loki sprawled around him, his arm curled around Thor’s torso, no words possible. They were neither shaken with worry, nor rigged with tension, and the moment held as much novelty as it did familiarity. The two were both much too tired to speak, so instead they slept and thanked whatever forces there were for the moment, hoping that any souls that had seen them would not breath a word of it.

 

Loki screamed at his wake, sweating, he sighed at the reality. He was safe, he was in Thor’s bed, and he was not being streamed with heat and fire. There were no Chitauri, no purple men. Though it was still dark, Thor sat awake as well, as it was hard to sleep through screaming, and his face hardened at Loki’s fear. He’d never seen him so scared. How had he become this? It was that moment he realized that there was an entire year of his brother’s life he didn’t know about. He didn’t know whether to hold him, or kiss, of if that would make it worse, he didn’t know. It seemed a lot of things he used to know, he didn’t anymore.

            “Loki?” Thor questioned, measured, in a small voice, Loki’s head zipped to him, as though his voice was the crack of gunfire in the quiet of night.

            “Yes, I’m all right, let’s go back to sleep.” Loki insisted, and Thor embraced Loki from behind, holding him tightly to him. He’d ask in the morning, he’d ask then, for this was a part of Loki Thor had not witnessed. And, odd enough, it frightened Thor.

 

When they woke again, the sun was shining through and the clouds were purple along honey colored skies. Loki woke first, propped to Thor’s chest, Thor slumped his arm around him. He kissed Loki’s hair, and Loki turned to him swiftly. A sorrowful smile graced his lips. Thor exhaled.

            “Loki,” Loki rolled his eyes.

            “Yes?” Thor looked to him with an expression of expectation, telling him what he was to ask, “Must you constantly hound me? Why are you obligated to know everything?”

            “So I can cause the same devastation to those possible. So I can further understand you. So I know what you were doing that entire year I thought you to be dead.” Thor’s eyes felt glossy, though they did not shed tears. “What’ve they done to you?” He stoked Loki’s hair, running his thumb at his ear, while he considered his opportunity to vent everything that happened to him. It was eating him alive, the things they did, the warping they’d done, maybe if he said everything it would all go away, and Thor probably wouldn’t leave him alone until he told him everything that happened, and if he ever did tell _anyone_ it would be Thor. So, not allowing himself to ponder any longer, he began.

            “When I let go of the scepter, I was sure I was going to die. I remember little of the moments after I let go, and when I reached the end of it, I’d been unconscious. When I woke, the surface was hard, and cold. I was lost, helpless. I had no idea where I was, or what to do.” Loki’s voice remained monotonous though his entire recount, never glancing at Thor, who was staring intensely at him, He told his story, “And then Thanos found me. He was very tall, a giant’s height and very, very big, very built. His skin was violet, his chin huge, and his eyes were such an intense shade. Anyhow, he knew my circumstances; he could tell what I’d been through. He knew I was vulnerable. He promised me lordship, and revenge. There was something extremely persuasive and extremely intriguing about him, at least at first. He drew me in, his passion his rage, his slyness. I accepted, not seeing anything else to really commit to, of course, I’d no idea of its perplexity. They kept me close to the Mind Stone, making me hostile, more subjective, it’s a terrible piece of nature and I hate it. He went on to grant me the security of the Chitauri and his servant, a creature I’ve only known as the Other, lead them. He needed the Tesseract, and he wanted for me to get to it, but before I could be sent out with an army and a mission, they’d needed to ensure and confirm my loyalty, my submission, as well as my dedication.

            “This of course was done with a series of mind warping measure, perfected by torture, debasement, and refining my instability. He’d keep me in metal ovens, my skin scorched, frozen below temperatures not even a Jotün can withstand. I truly experienced the weight of my disadvantage and stupidity for listening to him. It was the most physically painful thing I’d ever felt, objects heated and,” Loki swallowed, “stuck in me, burning my insides, and God, their laughter. They’d laugh, and laugh, and smile in my face, ask me if I liked it, if I really wanted to be King now. They would give threat to whip me with scalding leather, set me on fire, leave me out to freeze to death,” for some reason Loki found himself lightly chuckling as he said, “they’d beat me to evil.” He continued, “They just felt they had to break me, Thor, and they did. There was hardly anything left in me other than pain and fear, everything I once loved were somewhere more distant in my mind. They changed me, until I could hardly recognize myself. And, damn, Thor, some nights I still dream I’m being locked inside a metal box, roasting alive, stuck with a welding rod. It’s gotten worse since I’ve been stripped of my powers. I used to use magic to ward of these night terrors, or at least lessen their vividness, but sometimes the reality of them is just too much for me to bear, it’s like living it all over again.” Loki breathed, finally, it’d taken a while to get everything out, and make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, though in a sense he wished he could’ve forgotten _something_.

            Thor continued to mess with Loki’s hair. The visions of Loki writhing in pain and agony while the terrible creatures made fun of it, flooded his mind and he stifled a cringe. He loved him too much to hear all this. Despite all he’d done to fight him, Loki hadn’t ever deserved this. It was no wonder he tried to kill himself. Who would want to live with memories like that? Though, in the moment of his reminiscence he had no idea what to say to him. _Do what you think will console him,_ his inner voice offered and he gave himself and invisible nod. Placing chaste kisses on the tip of Loki’s shoulder, he breathed in his masculine scent.

            “Loki,” he cooed, “we must find them, we must kill them, the universe is in need of their riddance.” Loki laughed sourly.

            “That’s impossible and Thanos is much too powerful Thor. If he retrieves all six stones, he’ll be unstoppable.” Loki spoke matter-of-factly and leaned his head into Thor, who looked to be getting angrier with every word.

            “Why does he want all six infinity stones?”

            “How should I know? He wouldn’t let me know that much. I wasn’t _that_ much of an asset to him.” Loki twisted awkwardly to kiss Thor, not wanting anymore to talk. He moved their mouths hotly, climbing on top of him he held his neck between his hand. Thor groaned, a slowly growing arousal filling him, he ran his fingers along Loki’s naked back.

            Though their morning make out was swiftly interrupted by a knock to the door and their mother’s sweet voice, “Thor, I’ve excellent news!” Loki burst into a round of laughter, the situation all too hilarious, blatant and awkward like the dinner table. Thor, however, looked increasingly worried. He slipped from underneath Loki, rushing to get dressed.

            “Yes, mother!” Loki answered and Thor cursed him, Loki finally rising to dress himself as well as Thor.

            “Why’d you have to say anything? We could’ve pretended you weren’t in here.” Thor whispered, Loki chuckled.

            “So, she can go to my chambers and discover my absence?” Loki pointed out, Thor did consider this and still rushed to get them dressed. Loki finally doing the buttons of his shirt, he slipped on his black vest, tying it closed with scarf that had been mixed in with the sheets. He pulled on his brown trousers and boots, Thor wore black pants, boots, a red tunic, and a leather coat. Taking no time, he slapped Loki’s cuffs on. The only thing that could possibly give them away was their tousled hair, but they’d no time to be perfect. Their mother was, after all, standing outside the door, which Thor opened, slightly out of breath from running around.

            “Yes mother?” Thor said finally, Loki came to his side.

            “Oh, hello Loki, did you stay here through the night?” Thor’s eyes widened, a panicked smile owning his lips, Loki however, was the prince of lies.

            “Yes, we stayed up a bit, drinking last night and I fell asleep on the divan.” Loki offered, Frigga not caring to question it, continued.

            “Well, the All Father has awoken and he wishes to see his sons.” Now Loki was rendered speechless, as though someone had taken his mouth and sewn it shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to a lot of headcanon, I sorta was inspired by your ideas about the whole Loki-tortured theory. Deep Man.


	9. Chapter Nine

            It’s not that he hadn’t expected Odin to wake sometime soon. Of course he would, it’s just that he hadn’t expected he and Thor to ever reunite as they had. If Loki had been in his previous predicament, depressed, slightly on the brink of insanity, and still rejecting his family, it might’ve all been a little easier. But now that he and Thor were together again, now that he held much more weight on his already heavy shoulders, he felt as though his stomach was sinking in at the words. How would Odin react to Thor’s order to free him? He’d probably be furious. Even if he wouldn’t show it right away. Still, Loki managed to swallow the dryness in his mouth and speak.

            “He wishes to see me as well?” Loki asked, and Frigga nodded politely. “All right.” They walked with small steps, unsure about how this would go. Loki, straightening his clothes as much he could as he walked to his parents’ bedchamber also tried to comb through the back of his hair with his fingers, unsure of how he looked. He hadn’t had the chance to look in a mirror, so he made as well he could.

            The door opened, pushing back air in a gust of wind. Loki looked into his parents’ room. Enormous, mostly golds, whites, and pastels decorated the extensive apartment. And Odin awake, still sat in bed, his arms clasped in front of him. He looked rejuvenated, wide awake, and ready, healthier, the right shade of pink warming his cheeks. Thor smiled, and Loki gave a nervous one as well. Odin seemed to look at them with an emotion that Thor couldn’t quite tell, and Loki didn’t care to. He only wished he could gain the man’s trust back, and he knew that wouldn’t happen for a very long time, if ever, so he didn’t bother reading him. He was pretty sure Odin’s feelings on him were rather static.

            “Father, how are you feeling?” Thor asked, Odin cleared his throat and gave a long blink before speaking.

            “I am fine, Thor.” He looked to Loki with stern, honest eyes, and Loki suddenly felt smothered, even just by a lone gaze, as Odin’s eyes held too much for him to take in. Anger, sadness, and betrayal, all seemed to knit his brow and move his eye, and Loki could barely stand the look.

            “Yes?” Loki returned, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. Odin took a stand, folding back his covers, he walked to face his sons.

            “Your only order as king was to release the prisoner, Loki.” Loki kept his eyes down, his words sticking him like thorns. He didn’t exactly expect a warm hug and compliment, but he had died. After all, it had been the end to his life that had put Odin asleep, and he somehow expected to see some sense of relief on the man’s face. “So, though I may not be able to undo it, justly, as is the law, I will revise it, so that if those cuffs are to come off at all, he will be put back in the dungeons. I do not agree with this at all, Thor, I think your decisions are suited ill, and based purely off of ill placed sentiment. It was the least I expected coming from my sleep, but it is as it is. All other precautions to be taken still stand, until Loki proves himself worth of Asgard’s trust, as well as mine. Now leave me.” His cold dismissal sent them off with prompt steps and Loki looked to Thor with concerned eyes once they left the room, their mother following them.

            “Well, it’s not what I was expecting, but at least you remain free, Loki.” Frigga said, resting a hand on his cheek. Loki pursed his lips.

            “ _Probated,_ and how cruel of him to say until Asgard is to find trust in me, and for him to find trust in me. He might as well have sentenced me to eternity, bound by the shackles. No one wants anything to do with me.” Loki spoke, and Frigga sighed.

            “Still, it is better than prison. Eventually he’ll come around. Though, it will prove a difficult task.” Loki nodded, and Frigga removed her hand, dusting her dress. “I hope to see you both for dinner. I’ll speak with you later.” She said, and returned to the room, leaving Thor and Loki standing, awkward in the hall. Loki rubbed his eyes with exhaustion and crossed his arms, Thor looking to him with a woeful, crooked grin.

            “No more of this then, at least not for a while.” Loki said and Thor let out a drawn breath, not wanting it to be true. They’d spent more time being intimate, being together than they had in years, and now it’d all come to an end once more. Thor didn’t know if he could stand it, and Loki thought likewise. It’d all come and go so fast, now, who knew when they’d spend those passionate nights again? If ever, how could it possibly continue? Odin would be watching Loki like a hawk, making sure he didn’t try anything, powerless or not. There was simply no room for them to be together as they had, it was too risky now, no matter how hard it was for them to abstain from one another.

            “Yes, I suppose,” Loki clasped the back of Thor’s neck before he turned to leave, Thor voicing as he left, “I’ll stop by your chamber soon, after I sort some things out.” Loki nodded and left, turning to his room, he let out another huff and a swear, before entering his bathroom to take a bath, not minding Stein this time. He dressed in clean clothes, and made his way back down the stairs, calling for breakfast that was brought to him by his usual servant and then sitting down to read a novel. It was back to his dull, routine days of nothing it seemed, apparently the council still wasn’t letting him commit to any princely duties, he could understand why, but it made his day no less boring.

            He insulted Stein fewer times this day, light petty insults that hit the man and ran off in streams, inefficient, as Loki had finally found something that interested him. It was a book about music, including a few pieces he could play himself, as though the book held substance, he was just barely following along. His mind was stuck on everything last night, the sex they’d had, the love they’d expressed, after so many years kept in the dark. His mind was racing, with the thought of all of it, only happening over the course of a few days. Though, he couldn’t have said he would’ve been able to wait any longer. And then there was Sif, he could hardly believe it was she that had kept them apart, her jealousy, her fool’s errand to court Thor. He’d known there was a bigger reason as to why she treated him the way she did, why she never seemed to like him.

            And then there was that poor maiden that caught them in the act. She’d meant no harm, she’d probably only come to straighten up the dining room, and remove the dirty platters, but still, he held contempt in his heart at the wench. If she moved her lips toward any of what had been revealed to her, he didn’t know what he’d do. He couldn’t even stand to keep his mouth shut around Sif, but that was also because she’d only held their secret selfishly. Maybe he wouldn’t do anything, actually. For, at the same time, he knew, no matter what he might say, or try to convince himself, that their relationship was only a ticking time bomb. If that servant found out and she didn’t tell anyone, someone else would find out, and someone else would. Eventually it’d get around and he’d never see Thor, or anyone again.

            Loki shook his head at his thoughts and continued with his reading, wincing when Thor banged on the door. Loki opened it and smiled at him, and Thor smiled back, happy to see him even if not in the way he really wanted to, for he did love him, and love did sometimes hold chaste moments. He loved him as he’d love no one. And though it’d never dawned on him before, who else was there for him? He defined him. What was Loki without Thor? He needed him, and he couldn’t stand to be separated again. He’d been with no one but him for a thousand years, who else could he be with? He loved him, and looking at him right then, he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around his neck and drag him in for a kiss, but instead, he settled for a brotherly hug, soaking in his scent, and feeling at the firm skin beneath his clothes. He held Thor tight.

            “Thor,” He greeted.

            “Loki,” Thor breathed, Loki gave another grin.

            “Well, sit down.” Thor sat on the green velvety sofa Loki had been sitting in and Loki sat beside him. “Father’s angry isn’t he? He seemed rather calm at his presence, but he’s not, am I right?” Thor nodded solemnly.

            “He’s very angry. He doesn’t believe you’ve had any sort of change of heart.” Loki looked to Thor questionably. This was something he hadn’t thought much of. His own change of character, still of course, he was rude, blunt, easily annoyed, but what of his change in pursuits? What made him stop his constant pursuit of the throne, as well as his constant blood lust? _Thor, mainly_ , Loki gained, _and maybe dying_. Maybe it had, maybe dying, as well as having Thor again, it showed him what really was important to him, the things that actually mattered, and maybe it’d removed the illusion of the necessity of power.

            “I don’t think I have, I think, dying made me realize how much a fool I was to believe there was none left that cared for me. That and my mind unraveling to somewhere out of what Thanos made it.” Loki opinioned, Thor nodded, resting his hand on Loki’s neck. He probably would’ve kissed him, had Stein not been present, and had Odin not have laid such heavy threats. Though not all went unnoticed, and Thor removed his hand once realizing Stein’s reaction to the gesture.

            “But, ehem, yes, Father is rather upset, mainly with me. Your death certainly gave us all a scare, though Father won’t admit so, he didn’t fall into his sleep for absence of reason. I know I couldn’t bear the thought of you dead. When I found you I was so worried. I felt as though I’d lost a part of myself,” Thor looked into his brother’s eyes, “and don’t you ever do anything like that again, Loki.” Loki nodded sadly.

            “I’m sorry.” He said, not breaking their eye contact, there was a vibrant calmness between them and Thor chuckled, patting Loki on his back.

            “Well, I did not come to sulk. I was actually wondering if you wanted to go with me to Vanaheim later. Since I am no longer king, I can follow through with my duty of bringing the prisoners from Vanaheim.” Thor spoke, and Loki shrugged.

            “Sure, otherwise, I’d simply be stuck, with you know who, and this.” Loki nudged his head in the direction of the book he’d been reading, which sat, dog eared on the table in front of them. Thor picked it up.

            “Oh—music. Why don’t you play something?” Thor suggested, gesturing to the harp upstairs. Loki scoffed.

            “Oh no, I’ve nothing to play.” Loki excused, though neither of them were buying it. Thor cocked a brow with a challenging smile. “All right.” Standing, he made his up the steps, running his fingers along the first few strings, he cracked a few knuckles in his hands and let them glide across the cords. He began with the same sad tune he’d played at his wake. His fingers dancing over the strings, fast and slow, slow and fast, the notes flowed through him as did water and music pumped from his hands as did his heart to pump his blood. It was a pretty piece, a bit lengthy in its entirety, and slow paced, with quick allegros that lead the song into a rapid current, before returning back to its quiet, calm melody. He finished on a vibrating strung note that lasted too long, before peeling himself from the instrument, and descending the staircase. Thor applauded, smiling like an idiot. Loki rolled his eyes. It was obvious that it was a hobby of his he rather enjoyed, though Loki might not own his interest. He merely gave a shy chuckle, looking at his dumb lover.

            Thor had been taught the harp at the same time Loki had, though Thor’s attention span could never commit to the art. He wanted to be out fighting, playing pretend and jumping around in the garden with his friends. Though, Loki had been quiet as a younger child, and listened with willing, wanting ears to his instructor, he’d continued all the way up to their adolescence with his lessons, and until the course was completed. Though Thor had given up much earlier, he still would listen to him practice from his bed, watching the muscle of his arm slide in his skin as he played the piece. This day was the first time he’d actually sat and listened attentively, and respectfully since those hormonal nights under their covers.

            Thor took Loki’s hand in his roughly and exclaimed, “That was excellent Loki, now let’s be off.” Loki’s eyes grew large.

            “Already? I thought you said later?”

            “Yes, and now time has passed since I’ve come. This is later.”

            “Well, perhaps you should be more precise in your language. Some suggestions would be to say sooner, in a little while, an after-I-speak-with-you-off-to-Vanaheim would’ve been nice.”

            “Oh, shut up, and come on.” Thor said, dragging Loki along, he chuckled and complied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short little chapter, I'll post again tomorrow, cause I know it's not much. Also, I have a bit of a project I'm working on (another story) separate from this. It's not finished, it's actually in its early stages, and I'm thinking about taking turns with publishing each volume of that series and each of this one. (By the way this is not a hint at this story being almost finished, it's actually still got a long ways to go, I'm just really excited to post the other thing I'm working on) So, you guys, those who are actually following this, should let me know if I should post the sequel to THIS story next, or the first story in another series I'm working on. Thanks, by the way, it's cool to know people are actually reading and enjoying this. I worked pretty hard on the entire thing, and have stayed up way too late revising, rewriting, and editing parts of this.
> 
> Comment and share with yo friends. :)


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and Share. Last fucking dinner scene, I was getting tired of them too.

            Vanaheim was too warm for Loki, he discovered upon his arrival. He’d only been to Vanaheim three or so times in his life, and they were all great distances away from one another. Therefore, the beaming rays of light and high temperatures made him uncomfortable and sweaty. Thor seemed fine of course; he was unfazed by the heat. _Ah, yes,_ Loki mused, _the terrible handsome bastard._ It was stupid really, for him to be fawning over this man, but the stupidity did not move him. He and Thor were getting along too well for their health and his flustered mind was made content by the thought of it.

            The prisoners all stood in a row by a cluster of boulders, chained together. Thor and a few other men accounted everyone being taken into custody. Hogun, one of them, stood side him, helping and visiting as they rounded up the criminals. Though, Loki soon began to feel like a burden with his lack of contribution to the task at hand. So, since all he was doing was standing dumbly next to Thor, he instead decided to wonder. Tiptoeing away from the crowd of Aesir and Vanir men, the technical Jotün made his way across Vanaheim’s forest. Crunching his boots into twigs and dry leaves, he let his fingers run across the bark of the trees. Vanaheim was a gorgeous place, the shrubbery was thick and green. The trees seemed to extend themselves past the sky, their branches hugging the clouds. They were strong, and offered a relieving amount of shade.

He didn’t bother to watch his distance since Thor could see where he was with the press of a button, and he quickly found himself deep in the woods, far from his brother, taking in the woods. He was like a small child, straying from his mother with his distance. _I should go back_ , Loki thought to himself until a pull of some sort tugged on a primal instinct within the next few steps he took. It was like he’d entered a portal, in a sense. He felt a drag of energy around him, a constant tug that came from the natural intuition of his mother’s gifts, despite their dormancy, as well as his heightened sentience that originated from Jotünheim. He, intrigued, chased the feeling, following it and treading to where he felt it most. His insides buzzed with sensitivity.

            He kept his trot, following it until he reached a cave. The structure was perfectly tunneled, and so dark that after two feet, any other signs of the texture of its rock walls disappeared into pitch black. It was an ominous sight. Perhaps a beast took shelter there. Perhaps it was a passageway to the wise, but evil Norns. Loki didn’t know, but it made his insides feel curled with its aura. What lurked behind caved darkness? Loki wanted to continue in, see where the cave went, but was interrupted by his dangerous curiosity, when Thor screamed his name into the woods. Loki sighed and shouted back.

            “Yes, I’ll be right there!” Loki shouted, he walked faster the distance back, the feeling leaving him as he left the odd field of energy. But, he hadn’t realized the distance he walked and how confusing the twists of trees and brush stood. Loki walked out of the ominous field, and feeling the reverberated pull of energy, he stood in his tracks. He was lost. He was _lost_. Like a boy that strayed from his parents, he was lost in the forests of Vanaheim. Damn.

            “Thor,” Loki began to shout, dragging his hand across his face, “it seems, ugh, it seems I’ve lost my way!” He now walked aimlessly through the trees, exasperated. He should’ve stayed, rendered bored and useless by Thor’s side.

            “Loki! You should have not gone astray!” Loki’s eyes wounded about habitually. Leave it to Thor to state the obvious. He rested himself on the bark of a tree. Arms crossed, he waited for Thor to find him.

            Thor stood annoyed, next to Hogun who’d helped to round up the felons. Of course Loki had wandered off, it proved inconvenient and unnecessary, so of course Loki had to do it. He disappeared like an errant child. And so Thor, like the parent, was both angered and worried. What if Loki had been dragged to some fire pit by a stone beast? What if he ran away? That, of course was the most prominent idea on his mind. Loki was clever, what if he’d somehow found a way to remove his cuffs on his own and ran off? Thor’s heart had sunk at the reality, what if Loki getting near him was all part of his plan to run? And these thoughts only confirmed that though he and Loki might’ve shared something they hadn’t in a while, he still didn’t trust him. Still, not allowing himself to think his worries into reality, he was relieved when he’d called his name and received an answer. Though he became increasingly tired when Loki’s voice came declaring his disorientation. He took the bead from his parcel, the metal shining into delicate pools of light from Vanaheim. He pressed it and there stood Loki, standing lazily along a tree he sighed and showed Hogun his whereabouts, who seemed to know immediately where he was. Telling Thor to stay put, Hogun made his way to retrieve Loki.

            “Odinson!” Hogun’s accent came as he ran to Loki, who still propped against the tree. Loki stepped from his position, ready to follow Hogun, before Hogun stopped him with the grasp of a forearm.

            “Yes?” Loki asked, a bit offended by his brashness. Hogun’s eyes hardened, obviously angry.

            “Do not go farther than these woods. You went to the cave didn’t you?” When Loki didn’t answer out of pure shock of his anger and insistence, Hogun shook his grip on the prince, bringing Loki back to life. “Didn’t you?”

            “No, but I saw it, I didn’t, what’s all this about Hogun?” Loki insisted, and jerked his arm away, rubbing it. Being rough handled by a prying Vanir man wasn’t exactly his style.

            “Good, no one ever goes there. You may be free Loki, but I do not trust you, no one does.” Loki raised a brow and failed to suppress a wicked smile.

            “What’s there, Hogun? What are you hiding?”Loki asked, Hogun shook his head with aggravation and rolled his eyes.

            “Nothing you need to know of. Come now.” Loki followed Hogun. He supposed if he really wanted to know, he could always make a dash for it, following that sense, and diving into the darkness, but instead he figured he’d wait. Though now he was determined to find the secrets kept from him in there. Making their way back to the others, Thor stood, face red. He’d been more worried than anything though, he gave off a façade of rage.

            “Loki, you imbecile, what are you doing wandering off? You don’t know what creatures lurk in the wood of Vanaheim.” Thor exclaimed, Loki laughed.

            “I wasn’t even gone that long Thor, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d miss me that much.” Loki smiled smugly and Thor grumbled under his breath.

            Once the operation was complete, and everyone had been accounted for, white streams of light rained upon them, Hogun waving at the apparition as they all left back to Asgard, dissipating through the Bifrost. When they returned, Heimdall smiled at the two brothers that ushered a group of those who dared to offend Asgard, taking them through incandesant halls and down to the lowest part of the palace. A part, that Loki knew all too well. After all, the last time he’d taken those steps, he’d been the one escorted. Though now, it was much better doing the escorting.

            Loki helped to cell each prisoner, mean looks on all their faces, swinging ridiculous insults as they entered their confinement. Loki patted them on the backs and ignored their remarks. After they’d all been incarcerated, Thor gave a quick speech about how they were to be tried when seen fit by the All Father and face proper sentencing. Loki stood behind him, hands clasped at his back. He enforced Thor’s words with commercial nods. Of course, it was rather odd, since most there knew who he was and all he’d done. And despite Loki’s dry humor his setting was a bit overwhelming to him. He didn’t like being in the dungeons, flashes of bloody wrists, and weeping blond men irked his memory. Replaying the darkness, the floating, the crying, the blood, the memory was so vivid it scared him, like one of his haunting nightmares. And apparently, the concern showed on his face, for Thor looked back to him and quickly wrapped up his speech, resting an innocent hand on Loki’s back, pressing him slightly forward, Loki walked solemnly, focused and careless until he came across a very familiar frost giant, sitting in his cell like a caged elephant, Loki approached him. Thor, looked, but did not stop him, waiting to see what exactly his dark haired brother was to say.

            “Hello, old friend, how fairs your time in the dungeons?” Loki taunted sarcastically, The giant grunted, pestered, but slightly entertained as there wasn’t much to do in his plain, white cell.

            “Go away Loki, unless you want me to _really_ kill you right now.” The giant stood from his spot on the ground, approaching the barrier, he looked down upon Loki. “Once I get out of here, and I’m only I’m only in here for a short seventy years, unless I make with myself and get out sooner, and when I’m out pretty boy, you can bet your life that I’ll kill you, _brother_.” The words that left his mouth were like a slow oozing volcano, scorching Loki like Thano’s wrath. Suddenly, he was overcome with a sense of déjà vu, where he’d made a similar threat to a red headed Midgardian woman, and she made a fool of him, and now here he stood, revelated and threatened, he had no advantage.

            “What?” Loki spat, unnerved by his last word. _Brother._ It ran through him like ice, only giving him more thought to his biological parenting.

            “You heard me. I am Helbindi, son of Laufey. Don’t tell me you didn’t know?” Loki laughed, scratching his head. He turned to walk, horrified and a bit furious. He grunted and stormed out of the dungeon, all the while, the giant yelled after him, “I’ll kill you! Dead man walking!” In-between disgruntled snarls and threatening laughs. Thor caught up with Loki’s immature speed and held his shoulder.

            “Loki,” he started.

            “What is it?” Loki hissed, only wanting to return to his room to vent, make a mess of something, maybe brawl with Stein. The day had been fine, he shouldn’t have ever said anything to the Jotün, and his day would still be fine, but now it was ruined by previous sarcasms, mysterious caves, and a long lost brother. He’d kill _him._ He’d kill _him._ He couldn’t do anything. As soon as he had his powers back, he and Thor at his side, would murder him, he was no match, he’d killed Laufey himself. Yes, it may’ve not been a wise decision, but if Laufey was that easy to take down, then another meager off spring, not raised by noble Asgardian blood would die even easier. He’d kill him all right, _he’d_ kill _him._

            “Calm down, he won’t do anything.” Thor consoled, Loki scoffed,

            “I don’t care about that!” Loki screamed, composing himself he went on, “It’s just that, I didn’t know he was my brother. It’s kind of getting to me, I guess, dumbly the thought that Laufey had more children never occurred to me. He’s my damn _brother._ ” Loki spoke the last part more to himself.

            “Loki, blood does not define your kin. I’m more your brother than he’ll ever be.” Thor ran his fingers along Loki’s coat, a romantic gesture, concealed with its simplicity to remain its celibacy. At this Loki scrunched his nose, taken aback.

            “Sometimes I wish you _weren’t_ like my brother.” Thor, dropped his hands to his sides, defeated.

            “My! Loki! One moment you’re angry I’m not actually your brother, and now you say you’re angry for I am, what is it with you?” Loki sighed.

            “It’s just, I thought it’d make me somehow less significant if I wasn’t related to you, and now I see how much easier things would be if I weren’t. No reason to hide.” Loki mused, and then crossed his arms. It’s not like anyone would be able to come to any conclusions from only saying that, but the fact they were standing in a very broad hallway with many guards around as well as his recording manacles that told his story. Thor sighed, nodding, he couldn’t help but agree.

            “Indeed it would Loki, but things are as they are. Now are you still going to accompany me to dinner, or sit in your chambers and depress yourself, Stein by your side?” Loki’s eyes opened largely at his offer and he snickered.

            “You sound like him.” Loki said, a bit aggravated, and ran his hand over his face.

            “Like who?” Loki laughed.

            “Father, your father, ugh, will he be there?” Loki asked, and Thor sighed. He didn’t want to be stuck in that room with that pun of soldier, but still, he was reluctant to be joined by Odin.

            “Yes, he will.” Loki bit the inside of his cheek. He would not at all be accepted by Odin’s strict demeanor, he didn’t know if his consciousness would be well made at the dining table with the king’s wise, suspicious glance.

            “Yes. Join us.” Thor begged. Thor was begging, this Loki had to admit to liking. There was something so attractive to him about a man being loyal and submissive. He smiled in his own, perverted amusement.

            “All right, I’ll come.” Thor smiled to himself as the two walked to the dining room.

            “Good.”

 

This dinner, as per Loki’s expectation, was nothing like the last. There was no laughter, no fun, reminiscing conversation, no memories to be shared, and no pleasures to be laughed at. There was nothing to be made of this quiet meal, nothing at all. There was nothing but dead silence. It shattered any sort of ambience. The only sound was the occasional clink of Frigga and Thor’s forks to their plates. For Loki and Odin did not eat. Instead they created the silence. Loki stared at the wall, dragging his fork around a piece of squishy steak, causing it to bleed over and over, though he’d never taken a bite of it. Odin sat scowling at Loki, hand clasped tightly on his ale. Loki could not remember why he’d decided it would be a good idea for him to come. Actually he did, it was Thor, and everything had been fine when it was just them, it was when Odin had come everything had dipped itself into a silently beckoned glumness. Loki, with a change of movement in the last twenty moments, rested his chin in the cup of his hand. Thor gave a quick glance, to which Loki did not return.

            “Loki, why don’t you eat?” Finally came Frigga’s soft voice. _Bless her,_ Thor thought, closing his eyes in relief at her question. It was a painful stillness and he’d only been waiting for someone to kill it.

            “My appetite seems to have fleeted.” He explained and sighed. He stood to leave, seeing no reason for him to stay sitting in a room with no conversation and nourishment he did not need or want. Frigga pursed her lips, and Odin’s weary brow hardened terribly at the sight of Loki’s stance. How dare he, a practical prisoner join he and his family, which he chose to abandon and then have the nerve to leave at his own will, without even excusing himself? Odin was the king of Asgard, protector of the Nine Realms and he simply was not to take such disrespect. He hummed low in his throat, anger rising in his veins, as Loki pushed in his chair. Thor sighed, hurt that his neither father, nor brother could come to some sort of terms.

            “Sit down!” came Odin’s booming voice, the young maid that was wiping at the floors in the next room even jumped at the loudness. Thor winced and Loki clenched his teeth in a tightly lipped mouth.

            “So we may continue to sit in silence at your leisure?” Loki challenged calmly. Odin was not in a mood to be prodded and pestered like a beetle by schoolboys, and stood himself.

            “You will sit down and finish that plate, or be sent back to the prison, you should be in!” Odin threatened. Loki, clicking his tongue in consideration, sat back down. Certainly an awkward dinner was not worth going back to the dungeon, but still he didn’t wish to be there. So, he decided he’d make it a quick awkward dinner. Without giving himself much time, he began to quickly cut his steak, fiendishly taking messy bites, sharing forkfuls of meat and asparagus. Scarfing down almost everything on his plate, washing it all down with an ale of mead mixed with berry juice. He dabbed at the corners of his mouth and stood again, scooting in his chair. Odin growled again in disapproval.

            “There, I’ve finished, I’d like to leave now.” Loki testified.

            “Not until everyone else has.” Odin ordered

            “That was not the condition.” Thor now stood as well.

            “That’s it! Why can’t you two come to get along? Instead you cry woes such as infants do! Father, you may have given up on Loki, but I have not. He’s tried to off himself. And Loki, he’s our father, stop treating him like a useless piece of parchment.”

            “That’s it, goodnight everyone.” Loki exclaimed, storming out, Odin grumbled.

            “No, you will not! This is not a house to be run by my estranged sons!” Loki stood in the doorway to listen to Odin’s words, and still he left, going immediately to his chambers. He screamed in frustration. Why did the man have to be so complicated? Why did he have to be so cryptic? Loki had done nothing to harm him, ever, not during his time of crime, and not after his release either. All he ever really wanted was for him to be proud of him, truly, Odin must’ve known this. Stein stood by Loki’s door and Loki, not really caring, but not wanting another’s breath on his neck (except maybe Thor’s) hollered behind him, “don’t follow me.” He took long, fuming strides to his balcony, through a glass door that blended in with the rest of ceiling tall glass panes and leaned his elbows on the railing. How dare he defy him? How dare _he_ defy him? After all he’s turned around, after all he’s been through, tried to prove to the man and he’s offered the cold shoulder. Annoyed, Loki rested his head in his hands and cringed when he heard the inside door open, going back in his room, he shut the door to the outside closed. Odin approached him, Loki swallowing nervously. It certainly wasn’t who he’d expected. Still, tense as he was, he walked toward, not away from the man, though his heart’s palpitations beckoned him to do the opposite.

            “Father,” he acknowledged. Though no emotion animated Odin’s face, he was surprised by Loki’s formality. He’d heard him say it before and still the anomaly struck him profoundly. Loki saw him as father again? Really? Or had it all been a play? Loki didn’t know himself how he wanted to see Odin, but the word came out as a greeting.

            “Loki,” Odin swallowed, “there is no need for formality, as there is no need for our hostility. I do not trust you, not the slightest, and you’ve made mistakes that are unforgivable. Though, Thor still remains some hope for you, thus I will abide civility.” Loki’s pulse slowed a warmth grew. Odin would be civil? He’d practically apologized, for the king of Asgard it was as good as it possibly could be. And for once Loki felt sentiment, for this cold, distant father of his. You didn’t choose your kin after all, and if Odin couldn’t say he forgave him, not that he’d expect it, he could stand his note to be fair.

            “That’s excellent.” Loki spoke flatly and smiled a sweet, small smile. He didn’t know if he should’ve embraced the man, shook his hand, or salute, so instead he fumbled with his thumbs, intimidated and calmed. He’d been so angry, now here he was being a family forgiving idiot. “Thank you.” Odin nodded and left, Loki giving another boyish grin. He made his way up stairs, flopping onto his bed. What a day.


	11. Chapter Eleven

          Loki tossed once more in his bed. After he and Odin’s small, but well meant conversation, Thor had come to check on him, bravely kissing his hair he retired to his own chambers, though Loki had wished him to stay a while longer. And now, Loki lay, excited, frustrated, and absolutely restless. He’d been rolling around in bed for at least two hours. His mind would simply not allow him to rest. He’d made the unwanted discovery that the giant that had almost killed him was his brother, and despite its unwelcome occurrence, in the same day he’d patched up a whole in the torn tapestry of he and Odin’s relationship. And now, he felt cold sheets next to him, instead of Thor’s hot skin. He didn’t want to admit to being so clingy as to miss him, but he did. They’d just shared so much that he didn’t think they’d ever share again, and it was a bit upsetting to not have him to hold. In those nights of pubescent urges and young love they’d still shared a quarters, making any midnight display of affection simple. Things were different this time, and Loki did not know if it fit the criteria of being better or worse, but he knew it was different. There was the same sense of familiar affections they’d shared when they were boys, and then there was the sense of originality to their relations. It was exhilarating. Loki smiled in the dark at his memories. Oh, what were they to do?

            Another question he asked himself was how this would end. He didn’t want this to be another short lived fling. He wanted till Ragnarok. But, he didn’t know if he could bear to keep them a secret for eternity. And he knew, probably more certainly than he knew anything else, that if Thor was to abandon him once more, if their relationship was torn again, he wouldn’t be able to survive it. He was too in love, had their lovingness diminished, he’d certainly die, and how long till Odin granted him his trust once more? How long until he could run his finger along Thor without the fear of his father’s discovery? Better yet, what of Heimdall, the all seeing eye? Had he looked upon sinners? _Perhaps_ , Loki drew, _but Heimdall would most likely save himself breath._ Then again, incest was something held with little lenience, and in the just sight they were brothers. Loki tossed once more. _Couldn’t I have been normal, couldn’t I have simply made due with some other man or maiden, that hadn’t been my brother?_ He demanded of himself, though he knew that, that of course was not at all what he wanted, he wanted Thor, and despite all its hardship, he wouldn’t have anything different. He was a Jotün-Asgardian prince that had fallen deeply in love with his glorious brother. He was nothing ordinary, and without Loki’s quirks, and oddities, he figured he wouldn’t really be himself. His faults and advantages built him and wrecked him. The day had come to prove it. Though, still it hadn’t been completely fulfilled.

            _The cave,_ he remembered _, the pit on_ _Vanaheim_. He’d almost forgotten after his talk with Odin. He had to return and discover the secrets Hogun dared not tell him. He didn’t blame the warrior, had Thor not worked as his rectification, he most likely would’ve treaded and used whatever evils, or powers, or treasures were there to his advantage. _It must be something dangerous, right?_ He pondered. _Otherwise Hogun would not have steered me away, though the type of danger is still definable._ He’d go tomorrow with Thor, tomorrow, he promised himself. But, would they be allowed the trouble? Loki didn’t know, and he was extremely hyper. He couldn’t wait, he wanted to make leave now. And, so he didn’t. They could sneak out, slip away in the cold of night. Though, the roar of the Bifrost would most likely wake anyone. But, Odin and his mother would be sleeping, and Loki passed a quick glance to the time on his wall, at this hour, he didn’t know if the Bifrost would be best to use. _The secret passage,_ Loki figured, _it should still work given it still holds the magic of the convergence._ Though, he did consider Heimdall’s suspicious looks if they were to do so. Hell, he’d asked Heimdall at the bridge, and upon his verdict, do either or. Though, Thor and Heimdall, earned so far in each other’s trust, as long as he was there, he was safe, and the soldier definitely would not come with him. He just had to wake Thor, and to think, the hour was so absurd, there was no chance of Odin or Frigga being awake to see anything they did, as far as public displays of affection went and keeping their secret a secret. Loki grew charged more so at his plan. Only one obstacle stood: Stein. He’d never let him leave in the middle of the night, at least not for the reason he intended, and he definitely didn’t want him to tag along. Loki carefully peered from his covers, thinking how easy this would be had he possessed his mystic abilities, as simple illusion and he’d be out.

            But, Loki was only surprised and annoyed at his sight. What a poorly polished imbecile. The sense of nauseating nobility Stein withheld had all been but a guise, a stupid veneer to remain his reputation. Stein lay, dozing, helmet off, on Loki’s sofa. He must’ve thought the prince asleep, and thus safe to sleep himself. What an idiot. Had he never been young and under parental watch? Had he never slipped away in the quiet of night to meet a friend of his? Probably not, the boy was very conserved. Still, he should’ve expected Loki, who was a creature of mischief and illusion, to try and test his watchful eye. The boy had a sweet face, cute, but this act only proved him excruciatingly dumb.

            Loki rolled his eyes and quietly stood from his warm covers. He quickly padded his way to his closet with silent feet. He made sure not to dress too heavily, now that he’d been equipped with the side mission of not waking Stein. So, readying himself in a simple change of tight, black leather trousers, short boots and the same green elbow sleeved top he’d worn to dinner, he made his way from his dressing room. Then, biting his cheek, he stepped as quietly as possible down the staircase, wincing at Stein’s gentle stirring, he bravely kept up. He held his left bracelet with anxiety, his boots moved as quietly as possible as he reached the large doors. Looking at the guard’s limp form, he continued out, the door creaking a small amount, he let out a deep breath as he closed the door behind him, releasing it after. His stealth so far, had yet to betray him. So, keeping a pace and still making little sound, he wandered the dimly lit halls of Asgard, now to make his way to Thor’s room, simple, it wasn’t far from his, but Loki immediately froze at the sound of footsteps. Hide? Where? There was no place. If he was caught roaming the halls alone, he ‘d surely lose all trust from Odin, from everyone, but he didn’t know where to go. So, swiftly with small steps, he made his way back to his room, sliding inside with caution and precision. Once again, he was reminded of his absence of power. If only he had his illusions.

            He listened for the dull thumping of feet to subside, peeking back through his door and seeing two guards walk side and side.  He breathed, looking to Stein, who was still asleep, and he creaked the door open once more, exiting his room for the second time and following the guards, walking in time with them, as to not disrupt their ear with another set of steps. They turned the corner and Loki waited at the turn for them to disappear. Continuing on, remaining calm he reached Thor’s room.  He was not hesitant either when he swung open the door and crossed the length of his chamber, climbing the stairs; he shook his bedside, not earning a stir from him. Loki shook his head in disapproval. He should’ve learned from Thor’s heavy sleep, the first day of his probation. Loki mischievously and hastily pulled on Thor’s ear, giving it a sharp tug, he pulled from it and laughed at Thor’s abrupt wake, jutting out form his covers, his hair swung around his shoulders as he grunted.

            “Loki, what are you doing here?” He grumbled to Loki, groggy and stiff. Loki chuckled.

            “Hurry up, get up and get dressed!” Loki exclaimed in a rushing, determined tone. He dragged at Thor’s arm, making him stand.

            “Whatever for? What are you doing here, alone?” Thor ran the heels of his hands into his eyes.

            “I snuck out, Stein fell asleep. We’ve to go to Vanaheim, last time we were there, I felt a sense that lead me to a cave. I believe if we go to the cave and explore it, we can discover from what my sense was coming from.” Loki explained. Thor sighed and shook his head at the passion in Loki’s words.

            “Why? Why now?”

            “Because, father is sleeping, and will not question our whereabouts or travels into that darkness, and also because, well, Hogun warned me to not go there and if we go now, there will be none to warn or question its danger.”

            “What do you think is there? Why is it so important?” Loki shrugged.

            “It’s inexplicable Thor, it’s a feeling, it tugs at my soul, it lures me forward, and I’ve to see what calls me so.” Loki mused, clearly ardent. Thor gave a purse of his lips, followed by a contented smile. This was the real Loki, a new Loki, but a real one. He was neither evil, deranged by fool’s errands, or frightened by nightmarish memories.

            “All right, I still don’t understand why you wish to go at this hour, but all right.” Loki could almost jump up and down with excitement. He was going out again, no longer confined to his elaborate chamber. Sure, his trips to Vanaheim and the dungeon were something to do, but he was finally leaving, going on an adventure. He finally felt his warrior breath in him; he was on a quest, not one of strength and violence, but still a purposeful mission.

            Thor rose from his bed and went to his wardrobe, only dressing himself in a long sleeved gray undershirt and black pants. The two were dressed as plainly as humans. Loki only stared half the time Thor dressed, and when he was finally suited he took his golden hand, gray in the dark and pulled him toward the door eagerly.

            “Come now, hurry!” He egged and pulled them both from the door, Thor following calmly. Loki turned to him in respects, as to offer him a sweet explanation to his spontaneity, more than what he’d already given him. “Thor, I wanted to go now, well, along with what else I’ve told you, but also so we could,” Loki bit the inside of his cheek, embarrassed, “display affections without fear of judgment or revelation.” Thor smiled, heartily and flattered, and Loki swore. “Oh stop it with that ridiculous grin.” He hissed but was shut up from any of his other complaints with Thor’s caress, lips pressed to one another’s, he held Loki close.

            “Nine, how I adore you.” Thor whispered, just above being a mere breath. He pressed their heads together in a daze. And Loki, still wondering, but not thinking too much of it raised his voice to ask.

            “What of Heimdall? I mean I don’t think he’d-” Thor cut him off.

            “I spoke with him of it, he said he wouldn’t tell anyone, given no one asked.” Loki nodded, brow furrowed, still slightly off put by the fact, but finding it in him to ignore it. “Now, let us go.”

            Striding forth through dim halls the two men made their way through, coming to the entrance of the palace. Thor and Loki bid themselves from the entry way, their footsteps making brilliant glows of light ring as they crossed the bridge. They looked to each other with confusion when they reached the golden dome of the Bifrost, locked and dull. Normally, Asgard’s shining star, it was now made nothing more than a darkened hill by night and abandonment. It was completely shut down.

            “Why is it closed?” Loki asked. Thor shrugged, wrapping a loose arm around Loki’s shoulders.

            “We should just go back. There are other things we can pursue in our chambers.” Thor flirted, and Loki chewed at his cheek again, the offer was tempting, but he couldn’t lose sight of this.

            “No we must do this.” Loki insisted.

            “How?” Loki turned his head to Thor, a look of discomfort in his eyes.

            “A secret passage.” Thor raised a brow.

            “What?” Thor spoke.

            “It’s an anomaly, a soft spot, it should be stronger now that the convergence approaches. I figured we could take that way or the Bifrost, depending on what Heimdall said, but he’s not here, obviously, so we’re left with no other option.” Thor raised his brow.

            “Where is it?”

            “Just, over that way.” Loki pointed inside the dark, rocky peeks that lined the coast, and Thor nodded, rolling his eyes.

            “Oh, _just_ that way.” Loki nodded, serious.

            “Yes, we can just swim a little ways, and then-” Before Loki could finish, Thor was holding out his hand and connecting with his hammer, attracting it like a magnet, it came with a gush of wind, and Loki hardened his brow. “Or that.” Thor yanked Loki’s waist, and Loki slung an arm around his neck, and with a few air cutting swings of the hammer, they shot into the sky, piercing it like a bullet. Loki winced at the impact of wind, sand, and mist from below brushing their faces as they ascended to the coastal mountain line.

            They landed abruptly, and Loki stumbled, Thor only spinning his hammer back around and hooking his thumb through the loop. They made their way through a small tunnel carved into  the mountains. Loki, walking as fast as possible without having a jog in his step, he reached the spot, feeling it in his chest, an uncomfortable tightness occurred there, as he lead Thor, pushing through with a straining, uncomfortable look on his face. “This way,” he assured, and they carried through, entering into a land filled with rock and wood. The sun was shining in Vanaheim, and Loki sighed, expelling the discomfort of travel through portals, he dusted himself off and made his way. Thor at his side, tossing his hammer, absent mindedly he followed Loki through the forest. Trying to remember his exact path, he knew he was in the right direction once he crossed the cluster of boulders the prisoners had been standing by.

            He kept on, walking with exuberant confidence, assured, and knowing himself to be in the right direction. Thor jogged to keep up with Loki’s fast walk. Though he slowed when he reached the distance, that spot he knew to be parallel to something etheral. And, taking a few steps forward, breath hitching at the cross of a barrier, that invisible boil of being yanked forward, bubbled his insides. That familiar tugging drew him around,  patterning itself many times, he followed the tug, it growing once more, getting fiercer and fiercer, filling him with urgency until he reached the cave. Thor looked to Loki with much apprehension. The tavern was pitch black, it seemed to have no end, and looked utterly dangerous. So, before advancing, Thor rested a light hand on the younger prince’s shoulder.

            “Loki, are you sure of this?” Thor confronted, Loki nodded.

            “Yes, Thor, we’ll be fine, we’ve been through worse than a spooky cave.” Loki remarked and continued through. Walking and walking, they soon became invisible to one another, their surroundings a pitch blackness that swallowed them whole. “Thor?”

            “Loki?” They asked each other, Loki slightly chuckling in a bit of anxiety. Reaching his hand out in the blackness in search of something Thor, he felt his shoulder, and followed the line of his arm until he reached his hand and interlocked their fingers. They both smiled sweetly at their predicament, though they couldn’t see each other’s simple smirks, it was a shared warmth within the rock’s shadowy coolness. They continued on, for not knowing how long as the tunnel seemed to have no end, and Thor was becoming very worried. What if someone had seen them but remained their silence? What if another person had come to ask for him, for whatever reason and found him missing? What if Stein had woken up? Still, he kept Loki’s pace. Loki, who was still richly indulging in this sixth sensitivity and Thor’s calloused palm, did not hesitate at all in his ventures.

            “Loki, perhaps we should return.” Loki would’ve shot Thor a glare, but because of their current disablement, he grunted, and squeezed the fingers that held him.

            “We’re getting closer to it. I can feel it Thor, trust me. I’ll simply see what it is, and we will dash back, but I have to do this.” He persisted, Thor sighed, swallowing an unsure lump in his throat.

            “What do you suspect it to be, Loki?” Thor had a sense to, a small bubble of fear that rose in his chest. Loki, however, was not at all fazed by any sort of dread and valiantly kept up.

            “A portal, something, it’s seems somehow transportive.” At that Loki stopped, startling Thor, who also stayed from walking. He was right in front of it. It was as though he was nose to nose with a door, and pressing his arm into it, he felt a dip, coolness, as though he’d stuck his hand in ice water. But, instead of chill on the other side, he felt a slight humidity and flipping his fingertips around he felt the smooth bark of a tree.

            “What is it?”

            “It goes somewhere, keep walking, and we’ll see what’s on the other side.” Loki forewarned, stepping into the field, Thor following, tenacity at his side. They’d opened the door, and gone through it, accepting an entirely different setting. They were no longer cold and dank. Their sight was no longer blinded by a cloaked view. Around them was another forest, and wherever they were it was nighttime. Trees, brush, and ethereal shrubbery winded around them, all of them lit with soft cool glows of purple and blue. Moss twinkled, tree bark shimmered and smoothed. Leaves looked to have never have fallen glinted in their veins. The place was celestial and had a sullen, spiritual beauty to it. Thor’s hand left Loki’s, feeling one of the glowing trees, and Loki’s brow furrowed at the luminous rock underneath a ring of the foliage, letting off a green brilliance that stuck through cracks like beams. Straying forward, Thor lingered his fingers on the bark, and Loki crouched by the group of tree trunk to look at the source of it. And, with wide, aggressive eyes, he started at the rock, looking more like lime stained glass, he didn’t think to pick it up, unsure of the consequences had he done so. But, he quickly whipped his head towards the noise of a rustling bush.

            “We’re on Alfheim. I’ve never been, but it is rather nice, isn’t it?” Loki complimented, Thor sighed, still nervous about their leaving, and he panicked when he realized there was no door behind him, no odd cave to take them back, they’d gone from one rabbit hole to the next and they hadn’t been granted another to make their way out.

            “Yes, it is. But, we went all this way just to go from one realm to another? How are we to go back?” Loki stood from his perch, angry at Thor’s anger. He’d aided him in the journey. He’d used his hammer to get him to their first door. He kept up almost wordlessly as his companion into the portal.

            “You calm down, you didn’t protest until now.”

            “No, I told you we should go back.”

            “’Should’, does not tell one to do anything, and is not at all a good word to use in a vouch, Thor. We’ll find a way back.” Another brush among the common shrubbery and they both turned their heads in its direction, mentally preparing themselves for war. Though, Loki and Thor were relieved when nothing but an elf emerged, finding themselves a bit startled by the beauty of her. She did not walk, she glided, though she wore no wings, and she went about like a smooth rippling stream. She was graceful. Her arms and cheeks seemed to glow in a white translucence, no pink or tan to her skin, she was as pure as marble. Her hair seemed to be a long extension of her colorless frame, pure white. And she was no bigger than a child, her eyes big and glossy like a fish, gold with flecks of rose, her nose was straight and pencil like, her paper lips tiny. She wore a white dress that blended with her ivory arms, so close, and so short, not reaching the middle of her thigh. She could’ve been assumed naked. And her voice, only moved as her legs did, smoothly and with a strange but lovely echo.

            “You need to go back to Asgard?” She asked shyly. Loki smiled, nodding. “I have something to get you home. But first, princes of Asgard, why do you come to the land of the light elves?” With the title of “prince” escaping her small lips, more thin and pale elves flowed from the forests’ crevices, whispering quietly among themselves. Loki gave a small grin to the growing sort of elves. They all looked the same as she, white all over and the same huge eyes.

            “A sort of since, fair lady-” Loki left blank, waiting for her name.

            “Princess Astrid.”

            “Oh, well Princess, a sort of sense, energy if you will, it lead Thor and I here.”

            “Ah, yes, you wield magic, only such intuition can feel the tug of the stone through the bridging realms.” Loki raised his eyebrows in the dim blue light.

            “Oh? Well, I suppose I have—this is a stone, an infinity stone?” Loki begged confirmation. Which stone was this and why did it draw he and Thor? Why were they the ones to find it? For some reason he felt there to be a greater purpose behind the order of events in the last few weeks. With all the stitched wounds and patched holes, he felt, perhaps subconsciously, a certain event on its way.

            “Yes, the Soul Gem. The bridge between Alfheim and Vanaheim aims to protect it. It called to you. It is predatory, feeding off of souls, the special ones.” Thor tilted his head, suspicious.

            “What makes our souls different than any other?” Came Thor’s voice, low, but slightly accusatory.

            “I’d have to read you. It hurts to do so, but you are Asgardian so you can withstand the pain better than elves. Would like me to?” The Princess offered, keeping a pleasant smile. She really was lovely and her wide, trustful eyes tricked them into agreement. At first expectant of the sting, they stilled when she reached her small palms, lightly lifting off the ground to reach their height, she rested either hand on their cheeks. She looked weightless, like a feather dancing on wind. She applied a bit more pressure in her caress and, it did hurt. Not a lot, not as much as they’d been expecting at least. But, recovering with a twist of his jaw, Loki watched in a wave of startledness and awe as he saw gold eyes flash black and she released them. This time when she smiled, it was no longer tight and small lipped. Princess Astrid grinned, the corners of her mouth touching her eyes, her teeth barred, which they now noticed all held a small point to them. She was obviously excited, Loki returned her smile with a half crescent at his own mouth.

            “What?” He asked. She made a joyous, high pitched noise, hands clasped under her chin, romantically.

            “Your spirits prove strong, and you two claim tightly woven souls. No matter the insignificance, in every universe, your paths cross. Though, also, you’re filled with so much pain. A refreshing kind, one that feeds its predators, which is most the reason the gem craved you, it lives on sorrow, power, your spirits let off both. While your bond brings passion, your heartache brings sadness, of which balance on this fragile plane.” Loki looked around, suddenly put off, and a loss for words.

            “That’s great, but we really must be leaving.” Thor spoke with tension, and the angelic face whined.

            “No, you mustn’t leave right ‘way. It is refreshing to us small spirituality of a race to be in the presence of such strong connections. Alfheim does not normally receive such important guests as the princes of Asgard, and we have to give you way of leave. Please stay a while.” The elven princess looked to the two Aesir with much hopefulness. She was pleased with their company it seemed, even Loki’s. Word had caught the realms over Loki’s escapade, but this light elf seemed entirely indifferent, either that or she did not know. Though Loki doubted her ignorance, he felt trusted and respected, something he lacked in Asgard. So, flattered Loki agreed to their lingering.

            “Let’s celebrate my people, we’ve guests!” She exclaimed and the heard of elves made themselves nearer, giggling and laughing in their excitement. And with the princess’s words, a party erupted, despite Thor and Loki thinking the occasion not worth one. Pale elves danced around the clearer grounds of the iridescent life, and whistling instruments made smooth and lovely melodies. Thor and Loki sat on the ground, side each other and only watched the celebration, Thor setting his hammer next to him. They did not need to dance as well to feel a part of it. The forest was more alive than they needed. The small creatures seemed to be made of stamina, the place had been so very still and now it was a ground for exotic jubilation. And what a gorgeous gathering it was. The elves seemed to all move together and different at once, galloping in circles and tweeting their flutes, all moving with the same grace and viscosity as their obviously beloved princess. It was like a small pond of melting ice, dripping around, white and strong they danced. The illumination of mystics and trees of course added to the fairytale ambiance. Loki rested on his elbows behind him, legs crossed and stretched, he relaxed, closing his eyes and taking in Alfheim’s sweet air, it smelled of honey suckle and pine, the temperature warm with a breeze, and he thought wryly to himself _what a miracle, a realm more glorious than Asgard._

            “It’s beautiful here.” Loki sounded,

            “You think so?” Thor asked.

            “Yes, why, do you disagree?”

            “No, it’s just, I thought this wouldn’t really be your _thing_.” Loki gave a chuckle and Thor smiled at his relaxed brother and marveled in the sight of his lover. They were lovers, Thor realized or rather was coming accept, and reject it as well. Were they lovers or brothers? What did he wish them to be? Mere princes, slapping one another on the back and giving light hearted insults? No, it was definitely too late for that, and it was no revelation that he loved Loki more than any brother should love someone of their family. But still, for some indefinable reason, the thought of Loki not being related to him, not sharing his mother depressed him. But, he swiped all doubt and ponders from his mind, not wishing to come to any odd conclusions he might, instead admiring Loki’s body, at ease and comfortable, something  he often was not. Thor, smiling another half grin to himself reached over Loki and laid a kiss on his lips. Loki kissed back gently and sighed when Thor released him, sitting up; he wrapped arms around Thor’s neck. He was more than his lover, he was his soul mate, as just confirmed by the Princess of Light Elves.

          “Don’t ever leave me again.” Loki demanded, but the words were more than a demand they were more of a confession. He’d not said he loved his brother in a thousand years, he didn’t know if he ever would, but this plea, this beg, was as close as he could handle right now and feeling the weight of his words, he quickly added, “Or I’ll kill you.” With a half hearted smile and the breath of a laugh. Thor smiled too, cupping Loki’s cheek, he brushed their lips together once more.

            “As long as you don’t kill me, I’ll stay.” He retorted. They were about to lock lips once more when the gracious princess politely interrupted their embrace.

            “I’m sorry my princes,” she begun and they comfortably distanced themselves from each other, a bit embarrassed, “are you not enjoying yourselves?”

            “Oh, no, we are, but I think us both to be worn for the waning hour.” Loki answered with charisma and the Princess giggled.

            “Why yes! I’m sorry, I forget. We elves love festivity, and we do not sleep. For your Aesir hearts must feel exhausted. Would you like to return home now?” Loki looked to Thor, who gave a slow nod.

            “Yes, we should.” The two stood from their perch, towering the elf once again. Ready to leave, they were startled by tiny feet in front of them, two small elf children stood before them with violet eyes and garlands of flowers.

            “For the princes of Asgard,” said one of the children, handing Loki a garland and Thor one as well. Loki’s eyes widened, not knowing if he should feel flattered or belittled by the gift. And apparently Thor caught his look, for he whispered in a tight tone, “don’t be bitter Loki, they’re only children.” Loki gave a compensating smile.

            “Many thanks.” Loki said and turned his attention to the Princess once more, who smiled and dismissed the children. “Be sure to protect the gem, there is a powerful being after it.” Loki warned, rather randomly, and despite his brashness, he felt it necessary. Thanos would definitely be there to steal away the soul stone and despite the absurdity of his words, the princess nodded solemnly.

            “I assure you, it is safe on Alfheim. My mother and father will be noted of your warning though. Thank you, Prince Loki, Prince Thor.” With that, Astrid twiddled her slim fingers and from them came a light sphere, hollow like glass, but letting off a bright glow.

            “What is it?” Thor asked as she pulled at the light, manipulating it.

            “It is what will take you home, conjured using the magic of the stone. Elves are adapted to its energy, though it may have the effects of mead on an Asgardian.” She handed it to Thor. “Break it betwixt your fingers and you will return.” Thor nodded,

            “Thank you, Princess Astrid.” He said and held Loki’s hand, the sphere shielding each other from their touching flesh, they broke it, and flashes of green and a tornado of emeralds enveloped them as they disappeared from the mystic forest of Alfheim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, obviously this version of Alfheim is based on my imagination. I did do a small amount of research though. Um, what else? Oh yes, I also looked up different pictures and profiles of infinity stones and couldn't find an exact color of the soul gem. I know some people think that it's on Heimdall's armor or whatever, and that may be, but in this series it's gonna be green, it's--it's just gonna be green. Also, Loki's "portal between realms" thingy is pretty vaguely explained in the movie, so in this story it is just a sort of permanent anomaly, and so is the one on Vanaheim. Toodles! :)
> 
> Comment and Share, Please!


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, stuff finally goin' down in here! And um just a quick little note. As I was editing, I didn't realize it until toward the end, but I was calling Alfheim "Anaheim," for some reason. Of course, I went back and fixed it, but if I missed one, just know. I've read over it a couple times and I think I got them all, but just so you're not confused. I don't know why I did that, I think I'm pretty tired, I probably need to go to sleep as I am becoming simply incomprehensive. Anyways, with that said, here is "Chapter Twelve"
> 
> Comment and Share, please, thanks! :)

            Thor and Loki had both been drunk their fair share of times in their life. And upon Astrid’s warning, that was what they’d naturally expected. However, this was not at all like heavy intoxication. They were nearing something completely disoriented, and they felt almost as though they were going to faint. They could barely make their way around the palace, and Loki, who would normally be extremely annoyed with the sight of snickering drunks, now held the visage of one. Both of them continued to laugh at each other and laugh just as much at nothing as they made their way, almost opening the wrong door a few times. And as Thor stood in front of his own door, he took his time trying to get it open. It wasn’t a hard door to open, nor was it heavy, yet Thor suddenly found himself struggling with it. He pushed it open with a trail of wind and a loud bang. Loki shook his head and gave a light chuckle.

            “You’re so loud. I-I have to get back to my room.” Loki slurred and held the corner of the wall as he dragged himself in the direction of his own room, until Thor stopped him with weak fingers that he placed with a claw like grasp into Loki’s shoulder.

            “No, no don’t leave.” Thor begged and Loki smirked.

            “You look ridict-u-lous.” Loki said, feeling light headed, Thor only laughed, and yanked on Loki’s shoulder, pulling him into his room. “I have to go, Thor, I cannot do this, remember?” Loki spoke with struggling syllables and Thor giggled like a schoolgirl the entire time.

            “Remember what?” Loki widened his eyes, and pushed at Thor.

            “The thing, the thing.” Loki showed his wrists, banded in metal, and Thor only shook his head.

            “So?” Loki gasped and Thor cupped Loki’s chin, kissing him deeply, Loki smiling like an idiot through it, pulled back, hesitantly, and stood slightly confused.

            “What?” He asked.

            “What? The things, are so what?” And somehow, in Loki’s delusional mind Thor’s words held some sense and he freed himself from all other thought, accepting the rest of Thor’s kiss and entering it with the same bold lip, and wet mouth. The kiss, sloppy and filled with too much saliva still seemed perfect to one another as Thor closed his door and made his way up the stairs to his bed. Loki removed his shirt immediately, fast, in one motion, and he pulled Thor back in, to taste his lips once again. Thor, removing his own shirt as well, pulled Loki onto the bed, pinning him under him, kissing down his neck, sliding his tongue along his collar bone, and feeling the muscle of his thigh through his pants.

            The two kicked off their boots onto the floor, and Loki held Thor tighter, running his eager fingertips along warm skin. He stuffed his hand into Thor’s pants and felt at him, rubbing him and feeling his firmness, the quick and hard pulsation that ran through him. Thor groaned, still placing dirty kisses onto Loki’s chest, he licked his way down, and not bothering with anything else, flipped Loki over, earning a small, surprised grunt from him. He moved quick and hurried, pulling down Loki’s pants just enough so that it exposed him, he lifted him up, Loki arching his back at the gesture. Thor pushed in quickly, without the use of any lubrication and Loki let out a struggling breath, barley able to withstand the sensation. He began to move, using firm strokes that were uncalculated and uneven. Loki worked his way toward his own release, palming himself in his pants as Thor continued, increasing his speed. He moved relentlessly now, rough and animalistic, extremely primal thrusts that sent Loki into a hazed calmness, Thor huffing for breath as he himself, came, pulling on the inside of Loki’s thighs as he let go, stilling with a final grunt and then collapsing next to him. The two, exhausted, the equivalent of a drunkard’s weariness seeping into them, fell asleep.

 

The Asgardian morning was a pretty one. The sun was still between yellow and orange, the clouds still deciding to be blue or pink. The weather was almost perfect, warm, but not overly so, with the slightest of breezes. And though Heimdall could see any beautiful sunrise in all the Nine Realms, it was the one before him he was particularly keen on. It had been odd for him, sleeping. He hadn’t done it in so long; he’d thought he’d forgotten how. Of course, he didn’t need to sleep at all, but when Odin relieved him of his night duties, he decided to finally give use to his bed. He hadn’t dreamt anything though. He’d instead, watched the stars while he rested. Of course sleeping had still seemed so odd to him, it still held that same lucidity of awareness. He heard Loki and Thor come in that night too, but of course paid them no attention. He had figured sometime they’d be together again and as long as Thor was with him, he didn’t give much care to Loki’s whereabouts or intentions.

            Though, Heimdall knew that Loki’s “probation” was such a joke. He doubted anyone to take it seriously, as nobody trusted him, not him, and not Thor, despite their relationship. Of course, most did not know of Loki’s attempt to end his own life. And, it wasn’t as though Heimdall believed there to be genuine evil in Loki’s heart, no room for change. For though Odin had not seen it yet, Loki did no longer wish for any of his other mischief. He’d seen the change in Loki, he was still rude, brash in his judgments, a bit petulant, but he no longer yearned for kingship. Still, his being “freed” or “let off” was a mere jest to the Justice’s of Asgard. The only reason Odin hadn’t thrown Loki back to the dungeons, was because it’d been Thor’s decision as his time as King, and Heimdall knew Loki would fail to keep to Odin’s bargain. Somehow, someway, his cuffs would be removed, even if it be unintentional, and Odin would return him to his cell. It was clear as the sunrise Heimdall watched from his window and plainly, he couldn’t wait until he was back in there.

            He could see that Thor loved Loki, and maybe he could even believe that Loki loved Thor back, but it was too toxic a situation. It was too scandalous for the lords of the palace, and for the people of Asgard. And despite their loyalty to one another, he knew Thor’s life would be much easier without Loki in it, as it would make his job easier. He wouldn’t be reliant to keep such outrageous secrets and more so, he wouldn’t have to watch them all the time. Sometimes it seemed as though Loki could make Thor do anything, and that was most unsettling of all. He knew Thor to have some sense, some common morality, but still he feared for his influence.

            Anyhow, his new regulations permitted his watch at the day only, as the night was holding too much drama, and though Odin ruled a strong society, there were some threats that came no matter the strength of Asgard’s boundaries. And though, Odin had never confirmed anything, Heimdall knew that something was wrong. Odin had uncertainty of something and Heimdall was not at all wishing to intervene or question it. If his king did not wish to share whatever motives kept him from withstanding the privilege of the Bifrost, then he would not ask for the reason.

            Heimdall dressed himself properly, lugging on his armor, and retrieving his sword, he helmeted himself and made his way to the gate. His steps were clunky and heavy in his bulky metal suit. He opened the doors and placed his sword in its usual position, sticking it, a key dressed as a sword that opened one of the most important doors in all the nine realms. He took a large sigh and stood strong, hands clasped around the handle of the sword, and he’d seen the presence of the little elf before she appeared, entering in a wispy whirl of green. He smiled and then raised a brow, his change in expression hidden by the rim of his Helmet. The elf held, or rather did not hold, but levitated Mjolnir in a circle of magic, setting it down onto the floor of the gate with a sigh.

            “Hello Princess,” Heimdall addressed, he hadn’t seen the Elven girl in so long, centuries and centuries. “I see Thor left his hammer in Alfheim.”

            “Yes,” came her gentle voice, “I would have given it to him, but I’d like not to intrude upon Asgard. Will you simply address him to retrieve it?” Heimdall nodded.

            “I’m sure that will be fine. Tell me, how’ve you managed to lift it?” Heimdall asked and Princess Astrid giggled.

            “I have not lifted it, it was only cradled by pure magic, bridging from the stone we protect.” Heimdall now nodded again, and the girl smiled, reaching into the waistband of her dress, she retrieved from it a small golden circle. “And this, I found it on the ground. I know not if it holds much value, but still I’ve come to return it as well.” The short girl glided from the ground and dropped the object into Heimdall’s open palm. He looked to the gold piece now, identifying it as a button to something, though the most obvious and blatant thing that stood out of course was the fanciful, uppercase “L” etched into the gold. And, rather inconveniently, Odin made his way down to the gate.

            The king held simple intentions, only wishing to explain more to Heimdall his new schedule, and the reason for such large a change, but the sight of Heimdall holding the gold button and Thor’s hammer, handle up, on the floor, along with the Princess of Alfheim all in the same room only gave him reason to be extremely suspicious, to say the least. Somewhere in him, Heimdall wanted to scream to Thor to wake up, to say that some things were inevitable. And now, he wished so much to protect the prince, who he’d seen grow, who had become his friend, but he was not granted with the gifts to do so. He was only granted Odin’s questioning glance and slightly angered presence.

            “I came to speak with you Heimdall, but I see you’re engaged in such conversation already.” Astrid gave another small laugh, as she was ignorant to the weight of the matter and sullen secret that was kept among the realm.

            “Oh, really, I was just leaving, dear King of Asgard. I haven’t meant at all to be intrusive.” She spoke politely and smiled brightly. Heimdall sighed, jaw clenched, he could see the entire nine realms, and he could see exactly where this was headed.

            “Why’ve you come Princess Astrid—and why is Mjolnir at this gate and not in Thor’s possession?” Heimdall gave another sigh, shaking his head. He held the button between his fingers and stuffed it into the pocket of his pants.

            “That’s why I’ve had come, I was merely returning the things of the princes. As they made an appearance in Alfheim last night, and forgot some things they’d taken with them.”

            “How’ve they gone to Alfheim, the Bifrost had been made shut last evening. Heimdall, do you know anything of this?” Heimdall felt a burst of discomfort in his stomach and he swallowed, speaking, his mouth suddenly felt dry.

            “No, my King, I do not know anything of it.”

            “Loki was with Thor?” He returned his attention back to the Princess who gave a light nod.

            “Yes…you weren’t aware of any of this?” Astrid realized and blinked, “My, I figured you would’ve known.”

            “No, no I was not. Heimdall, where are they now?” Odin asked, rushed and distrusting. Alfheim held the soul gem, protected by its people, and the last thing he needed was Thor walking Loki into the realm to take it. Heimdall answered and asked Thor to forgive him, but he could not lie to his King.

            “Thor’s chamber, they sleep,” sounded Heimdall. Odin scrunched his brow more so, and his face began to grow red.

            “Together?” Heimdall nodded.

            “Aye.”

            “Guard!” Odin sounded and four, young, clattering soldiers, stationed outside of the gate, came in, saluting solemnly, Odin spoke with boiling veins and through a tight mouth when he said, “Retrieve Loki and Thor from Thor’s personal quarters as they are. Now!” He yelled and stood waiting, a look of worry and fear laced Astrid’s pretty eyes and she spoke softer than before, she hadn’t known her words to cause such anger.

            “I’m sorry, King of Asgard. I must go now, I’m afraid. I never meant to upset anyone.” Astrid dismissed and left the same way she came, leaving behind the dust of green gemstone.

            “How did she bring his hammer here?” Heimdall smiled sadly.

            “She brought it in a field of magic.”

            “Seems the elves only strength,” Odin mumbled and waited awkwardly side Heimdall for the brothers to be brought to him.

 

At Loki’s wake, he felt an urge to murder something. His head was too heavy, it hurt like that of a hangover, and his bones felt somehow weighted and brittle at the same time. Pulling from Thor, he sat with his head in his hands, rubbing circles into his temples and scratching his fingers down his scalp. His hair was terribly messy. Thor would’ve wanted to grab fistfuls of it and make rough love to him again, had his eyes made their way over him. Good thing he was still asleep. Loki was still sore from the night before. And the thought of the night before sent a wave of nausea into his stomach, and his brain. _Damn._

            Had he been that stupid? Had he really slept with Thor on such an ordinary day, after being pledged and abridged to such simple confinement? His breath caught a bit. Surely, someone must’ve heard them coming in with their dumb loudness. If not, someone must’ve gone to his room to check on him and discovered him missing. And what’ve Stein? The thought hadn’t even occurred. What of Stein, when he woke and Loki was gone from his chamber? He’d surely report to the king as soon as he woke and didn’t find him there. And Frigga, her magic, she could’ve easily looked to them and seen anything they had done. This was terrible, it was horrid, and Loki’s mind was on the edge of something breakable. He stood from his slump on Thor’s bed and pulled up his pants, lacing them in the front. He pulled at his matted hair. _Shit, damn, fucking hell in all the nine!_ He could scream, he could kill, and his worried breath and constant pacing only woke Thor, who was greeted with the same headache and grogginess.

            “Loki,” his voice cracked, “What’s wrong?” Loki shot Thor an annoyed glare, jumping on top of him, he held his shoulders firmly into the mattress, straddling him. “Not now Loki, I feel horrid.” Loki _growled._

            “Ugh, no, you idiot! We slept together!” He shouted through a hardened jaw. Thor looked up at him with inquiry.

            “And that’s bad?” He asked. Loki slapped him upside the head.

            “Yes it’s bad!” He screamed.

            “Why?” Loki ripped away from Thor and began to pace again.

            “They’re going to find out! Stein will see I’m gone, mother will check up on us!” Thor stood and did his trousers up as well. “And,” Loki turned to Thor with coal in his eyes, burning, flickering with hot flecks of resentment. “ _You_ ” Loki rapped his fists across Thor’s chest. “You left your damn hammer in Alfheim!” Thor sighed. He couldn’t deny Loki’s worry as it wasn’t all farfetched or fictional and the more he looked into Loki’s fuming eyes, all the more real it became. Loki turned away, leaning over the indoor balcony for a brief moment and then descending the stairs to the large glass that lead outside. The door blended in with the long windows, just like Loki’s room and Thor looked to him, as Loki made his way down the outdoor balcony stairs and sat on the ground, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Thor groaned and then followed outside when Loki rose again and walked out of the view of the window.

            He was talking to a male servant with a shovel, which he utilized for digging up holes to plant red flowers that resembled something between carnations and tulips. Loki asked for the shovel hastily and the poor gardener, intimidated by the prince’s intensity, handed it over. Taking the shovel, he forced the pointed, rusty end into the dirt and settling it underneath, ripped it from the ground. Thor descended the staircase, still barefoot, looking at Loki in wonder as he continued to dig a hole into the ground. He’d gone mad. It was official, he was crazy. He’d been pushed and pushed, dangling off the cliff of sanity and he must’ve fallen hard in this moment. Thor felt like smacking him again. What the hell was he doing?

            “What the hell are you doing?” Thor asked with little care. Loki looked up for a second, but did not stop digging.

            “Digging our graves, don’t you see? We’ve already lied in it, and it’s yet to be dug. I’m fixing that.” Thor now was only annoyed. Loki proved at times how childish he could be, and now he was proving so more than ever. Thor rolled his eyes, and taking the shovels shaft, knocked it out of Loki’s hands with ease.

            “Stop Loki, don’t be so dramatic.” He scolded. Loki nodded sarcastically.

            “You’re right, I’m overreacting.” He spoke with much cynicism. Thor grunted. “It’s not as thought everything is at stake now. My ‘freedom’, our overly diverse family, and I wouldn’t forget to mention _your_ reputation. Once this all comes to the light, the golden prince won’t be so bright and shiny anymore!” Loki yelled and Thor stared at Loki intently , his face becoming less and less soft as the words were leaving his mouth, “…and you can forget about anyone trusting me again, it’ll all be my fault…and they’ll question your strength, our upbringing…” He went on and on as though nothing would shut him up, except the pestered lips that collided with his own.

            “Shut up.” Thor grumbled into the kiss and pulled away, holding the back of Loki’s hair. “Look, I know of these consequences, Loki, but we’ll sort things through all right? We don’t even know if anyone knows.” Loki nodded in their embrace. “And we can go to Alfheim today and I’ll get Mjolnir.”

            “You’re right.” Their breath, which had been hot and rapid, finally began to slow, and the two walked back inside, closing the door behind them. And Loki almost winced at the sound of another opening. Four guards all stood in formation, and the princes only stayed where they were, sill only dressed in trousers that stopped below the knee. They exchanged glances.

            “Prince Thor, Prince Loki,” began their leading in command, “you’re presences are requested at the bridge by Odin’s orders, we are permitted to use force.” And Loki squeezed the bridge of his nose, his face heated with color.

            “Fucking hell.”


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies, for leaving you guys with the ending of that chapter and none to follow for the last few days. Life, stuff, computer being an ass. Also, I rewrote most of this chapter, because I simply wasn't happy with it, and still I'm a bit eh, but whatever, I figured I needed to post, so here you are. I'll post the next one sooner, I promise.
> 
> Comment and Share, please!

           When Thor and Loki were younger, and Thor had left Loki, he knew not by the direct words of it. They were in their room. Thor had been gone most the day, and Loki had been studying, both the harp and his regular schooling, writing in a little notebook, notes and music. They had barely talked that day. And they hadn’t been together, intimately in a little less than a week, which was odd for them. And, Loki could notice Thor’s shyness. He wasn’t blind, but he figured that whatever had been bothering him not to be close, must’ve had nothing to do with him. Why would it? Why would he suddenly stop talking to him for a reason other than a trivial annoyance? After all, they seemed to go together like gold and silk, and Thor did little for contemptuous reason.

            And Thor, well, he’d been terrified. Though, he knew Sif knew when she did, for she’d stayed outside their chamber and listened intently to them say sweet things and exchange kisses, before Thor left out of their chamber. And, when he’d walked out he’d almost hit the girl in the face with the edge of the door. And, based on the crazy smile and slightly disgusted brow, he knew that what had happened behind closed doors, had now been made clear to the warrior. He pulled her around the corner, his eyes filled with the fire of fear, and she only smirked.

            “You heard me, did you not?” Thor asked, frantic, and holding the girls shoulders, shaking them.

            “But did I?” Thor scoffed and shook her again.

            “Stop this slyness Sif, what is it you’ve heard?” Thor demanded, his eyes wet, and his face flushed with worry and rage. Sif finally cut away her cocky veneer and answered.

            “Enough to know what is going on between you two, I won’t tell anyone though, you’ve no worry.” Thor sighed, releasing his tight grasp on her shoulders.

            “Thank you, Sif, I really care about him you know-“

            “I’m sure you do, Thor, and you’ve nothing to worry of, as long as you stop this.” Thor shook his head, as though the words were shaking it back and forth, his brow became harder.

            “Stop what, do you mean, Sif?” Thor jumbled, his heart, which had returned to a simple thud in his chest, began to race once more.

            “Do not continue this relationship with your brother, it’s no good for you, or him, and it does less for your family, and if you don’t, then I’ll go straight to the All Father.” Thor, panicked and scared, ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes in thought and pain.

            “I love Loki, Sif, he’d hate me. I-I can’t.” Sif, shrugged, then, turned on her heel and shouted.

            “Odin!” Thor, pulled her shoulder, wincing at her childish voice, she turned back to face Thor, who looked at her with defeat.

            “All right, but give me some time, a few weeks to do something about it.” She tilted her head, sighing.

            “All right, that’s fine, and don’t be too down about it Thor, there are others in this realm that like you just as much as you like him.” She left with that, leaving Thor, confused, hurt, and feeling a bit betrayed by his so called friend, who had practically just blackmailed him. He’d turned his head around and left the corner they’d been talking in, head in his hands.

            And then, returning to the day Thor had finally found it in himself to do it. He spoke little to him, and simply had a few men help to move his furniture from their room, and as Volstagg, picked up Thor’s nightstand, Loki put away his book and pencil, and walked to Thor, who was collecting his clothes into a sack, and looked to him confused.

            “What are you doing?” He asked, brow furrowed and Thor shrugged, a bit aggravated by the entire nature of the situation, though he knew that, best for him to stick to his plan, he should not hold back from Loki. He figured if he could push him away so that Loki wanted nothing to do with him, it would be easier for him to resist him.

            “We’re getting a bit old to share a room don’t you think?” He snapped, and Loki looked to him with hard, pained, heartbroken eyes.

            “What about—everything? What do you mean? This doesn’t make any sense, Thor.” Loki’s mind was racing, thinking back the past few days, had he done something wrong? He hadn’t told anyone. What if Thor had found someone else? What if he suddenly found himself disgusted by all of it, what if he blamed Loki? There was something so tragic in this that Loki’s throat caught when Thor looked him in the eye, as though he meant nothing to him and said with a shrug and a huff, “What about what, Loki?” And the words had said enough, this was it, and Loki’s lungs felt as though they’d been ripped from his chest, and he could no longer breath, he’d remember that feeling forever.

           

And the feeling he’d felt now sent similar shivers down his spine, when the guards had come, unbidden, and unwelcome to Thor’s door, and with an irritated glance to each other, Thor and Loki reluctantly followed the soldiers. They walked in-between two sets of two soldiers, feet padding on the floor, practically bare, though Loki still wore his bracelets, which only made him feel more naked. For he often forgot they were there when he was dressed, but now the two walked in nothing but their knickers, and the feel of light unshakable metal clung heavily.

            “Let me talk, Thor, your words often crash into each other, that or you’ll end up saying something you regret,” declared Loki as he felt at the bands on his wrists, consciously. Thor scowled at him and shook his head.

            “No, I’ll talk, no one will believe a word that leaves your mouth,” Thor argued, and Loki rolled his eyes.

            “No, I will, if you agree with what I say, I’m sure they are sure to believe it,” Thor still shook his head, not agreeing, but he knew Loki was to do whatever he wanted, and as long as he could catch his tongue to speak, before Loki could open his mouth, he felt rather confident in the explanation he’d need give.

            At the gate Heimdall and Odin took stance behind the hammer, still standing, handle up on the ground, Odin hadn’t bothered to pick it up. _Just talk, nonchalant,_ Thor told himself. He’d done worse, couldn’t they see that? The whole matter to visit a stone in Vanaheim/Alfheim would not be of hard punishment or scolding. But, having relations with his _brother_? By rule they were related, and it was rather dishonorable to the royal family to face such a scandalous affair. And he knew some pledge of love, a force of nature, would not get them very far. Though, perhaps Odin would only consider their crimes. Maybe he’d only make them vow to never commit such an offense ever again. Though that was doubtful, for words were weak, and Thor himself knew to take oath to never love Loki again would be a great lie. Or, perhaps, the only reason Odin called them was because he’d discovered their escapade the previous night. Though, Thor couldn’t imagine why Odin wouldn’t let them dress themselves properly otherwise, maybe he was simply being impatient.

            “Thor.” Odin said as though it were a statement as they stood in front of him. Thor looked to his hammer on the ground and took it back with a pull, catching it in his grasp.

            “Yes,” Thor returned, tossing Mjolnir’s handle around.

            “Thor,” The All Father spoke again, in a calm lividness. “Tell me, why’ve you two gone to Alfheim?” Thor inhaled and exhaled with a small bit of relief.

            “Well, Loki knew something was there when we went to Vanaheim, and he took us through a passageway he’d known of.” Odin shook his head.

            “You’d have to do this at such an hour, for what reason, and for what reason have you two stayed side each other in Thor’s bed chamber?” This time, Loki opened his mouth to speak, trying to say something conniving, denying, and perhaps manipulative, but Thor stopped him.

            “We were tired, we were incoherent, we hardly knew what we were doing,” Thor testified.

Loki sighed and added, “Yes, and we meant not to do so, but our means of transportation left us a bit stupid and slothful as to not make it back to my own chamber.”

“It seems more than that to me. Heimdall has said you lay together, as odd it may sound, tell me, is it true?” And of course, Odin knew it to be, as Heimdall had seen it, clearly, he wondered if either them would admit to the accusation, and when Thor opened his mouth to speak again, Loki bit the inside of his cheek, nervous and shaky.

            “Yes it is,” he confessed, and Loki’s eyes almost bulged out of his face in shock. “Oh, I knew this must come in time. Is it wrongful, or is you making such harshness of it wrong? Do you make me a maniac, now? Don’t bother, I know the answer.”

            “Thor,” Odin grumbled, but Thor would not stop with his rambling.

            “No, father, hear me. I care for Loki. I love him, no matter a severed family or shredded rule. We love one another.” Loki rolled his eyes, he definitely should’ve left the talking to him.

            “Yes, I’m sure.” Odin spat, sarcastic, he huffed. Loki stood head down, arms crossed, wanting to disappear. Odin’s jaw twisted. “This discovery betrays my trust to you Thor, and the foolish bit that simmered my heart toward Loki.”

            “And why should it? For you knew the reason of our secrecy, why should it betray you?” Thor screamed, growing heated. “And, if we talk of trust, pray tell, why was the Bifrost shut last night?”

            “It is none your concern, child!” Odin screamed, it was rare he called him such, it was patronizing and the name even unsettled Thor in all his blind rage. “Quiet while I speak. You two disgrace me, your name as an Odinson, and I shall not witness more of this corruption upon this house of noble honor. This-this cannot continue.”

            “Then it won’t,” Loki spoke, finally inching his way inside the terrible argument. “We will never lay together again, as we have, and we beg your forgiveness, Odin.” Loki hated begging, he hated apologizing, but he found there was not much else he could do in his current situation. Odin gave a chuckle, though this was much darker than the sardonic laughter he’d given before. It was menacing and Loki might’ve even grown a bit frightened at its noise. He swallowed the weight at his tonsils and breathed unevenly at Odin’s next words.

            “No, no you won’t, Heimdall, open the Bifrost,” he ordered lowly, turning to the gatekeeper for a second, and facing his sinful sons once more. “My estranged sons, your hearts made dull by crime, treason, and lust. I give you leave of this realm, hence more. You will never see this place or each other again,” the king took one final breath before declaring, “Heimdall, send Thor, to Jotünheim.” Loki’s palpations grew more prominent, his breaths became quicker and sweat grew under his hair. “And you’re to have no communication with this realm, ever again.”  Odin quickly slid Loki’s bracelets off, snapping them into shreds of chain, and Loki grew hot with rage, angry tears, threatening to fall. He only found the rapid beats of his heart tear at the valves that released and returned blood, when guards came to lead Thor away to the entrance of the Bifrost. Thor, hair shagging in front of him, had his hammer torn from his grasp at Odin’s summon. “I nearly forgot,” he spoke when he’d gained custody of the weapon.

            “I’ll find you Loki, don’t worry.” He promised and Odin with a push of his heavy heart, sent him down the Bifrost and left Loki a panting, worried mess.

            “You can’t! He’s your first born, he won’t last a day bare like that, in Jotünheim. King of Asgard? You’re more a murderer than I am, you monster!” His words seemed to mean nothing to Odin though, for he simply looked to Heimdall impassively.

            “Midgard, feed him to his enemies.” And he fell in after Thor, falling, alone, the light was like darkness, his lungs filled with dust and fragments of dry leaf when he hit the ground, and he felt he couldn't breath.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry again for a bit of a delay, I'll post again tomorrow, so yeah, here's your chapter, I hope you enjoy, despite its dismal nature.
> 
> Comment & Share, please! :)

         The cold was much bitterer when bare, and Thor’s tone of muscle, and rippling back grew goosehairs as he walked along the frozen desert of Jotünheim. His breath made clouds, and he realized why Odin had sent him to Jotünheim. He truly wished him to die. Loki would be fine in the chill, his shins may find their natural hue, and his eyes may have gleamed red, but at least he’d be comfortable in the frosted kingdom. Thor, however, roamed plush and frozen, his veins like ice under bumpy arms. He didn’t know where he was going and no sense of time claimed his mind, but the light of day was running out. And he’d still found himself in nothing but a barren ice land. He wouldn’t survive if he kept walking though, this he knew. He might’ve been an Asgardian, braver than most, and body built for war, but that did not render him invincible. He needed warmth, he needed fire. But, how was he to make fire, where everything rock was coated in snow and ice? He couldn’t, there was no way. And after walking in exhaustion and growing hypothermic at the constant ice that his feet treaded, he found himself collapsing, the spittle that had dried on his lips became hard, his eyelashes, wet from tears of wind, became frosty. He was lost and cold and in his collapse, he slept, almost dead, on the ice.

 

Cold hands held Thor when he was conscious again. He found himself slung across a broad blue shoulder and his breath came out in raspy grunts. His eyes seemed frozen shut and he didn’t want to open them, but the giant that held him still felt Thor rise, or rather slouch from his sleep. His deep laugh vibrated his chest and Thor could feel it in his shoulder.

            “Sleeping beauty woke up,” came the gruff, jesting voice of the giant. Thor only sighed. He was defenseless, not to mention, fatigued. The Mighty Thor, son of Odin (though Thor felt a slight embarrassment at being his son in his current conditions.” He was like nothing but a frigid sack of potatoes, slung over the brute’s shoulder. And food, he couldn’t think about food. The fact that he hadn’t eaten since the day of he and Loki’s adventure was finally being taken note of by his stomach more than his mind. And he had no energy or shit to give to this Jotün, so he allowed himself to be slung and stayed with his purple lips shut. “I’m taking you to the king. I expect I should get a prize for bringing the Prince of Asgard to his majesty.” Thor’s eyes opened more, and he tried lethargically to look up from the man’s back and to his face, but his neck would not reach around. Now, the giant spoke of things that rose curiosity and confusion in Thor’s slightly muddled mind.

            “Who-who is king? Laufey is dead, and one son is off—somewhere,” Thor forced, the thought of Loki depressing him, “and the other is in prison.” Thor said weakly. The Jotün rolled his eyes.

            “Ugh,” he grunted, “stupid Asgardians will be stupid Asgardians. Just as in Asgard, our king’s office falls to his heir. In this case, King Byleistr, Laufey’s oldest son, he had but more than two children.” Thor had never thought more of what he’d been presented with. Somewhere within him he knew Jotünheim had a new king, but the loopiness of his freezing, frostbit body, his purpling fingers, somehow made him less than a sentient intelligence, and this wasn’t the first time he was wrong about something. He was wrong about Odin, his father. He no longer felt like a father to him. Sending him to Earth to learn humility was one thing, but this, nearly killing both of his children? He thought Odin to be somewhat understanding.  But, Odin’s wrath, though futile, proved very impactful. It may have been harsh, but Asgardian stupidity was Asgardian stupidity, and Asgardian punishment, was Asgardian punishment.

            When they reached civilization, Thor only became more uncomfortable. The stares and glares from the townsfolk, unnerved him and dug like knives into his skin. Some eyes were amused, others confused, and the rest were filled with scorn. But, Thor could not let that faze him. He needed a plan, though he had no idea of what scheme he could possibly devise when he was carried over the shoulder of the blue beast. Any movements that were confused with struggle earned him a feeling of fire at his side, as the Jotün scorched his skin with his fingers. He’d have to wait till he was put back, released by the Jotün, so that he could make a swift, stealthy escape around a dry iceberg and to a sorcerer. For that was one thing he could rely on in the chilly kingdom of giants, was that their renowned reputation for sorcerery might help him, had he found the right giant, but then again Asgard held the casket’s custody, which gave Jotünheim its glorious power. Still, he had to find someone who could send him to Loki, or at least Asgard.

            The giant finally came to a halt in a castle made up of mostly rock and ice just as hard. It didn’t really look at all like a castle actually, it seemed to blend into the landscape of the place. In a subtle light, it may have looked glorious, but Thor’s thumping heart and the rolling black clouds did not make him look upon the structure with awe. And as his eyes grew keener to his surroundings, he was washed and wrung with unpleasant déjà vu. Yes, this place was indeed familiar; it was where he marched as a stupid boy, an errant child begging for war. The memory left a bad taste in his mouth and a pain in his sides when the Jotün threw him to cold ground and his ears burned as he declared, “This is a present for King Byleistr. It’s the prince of Asgard. I seek compensation for my capture.” Thor’s ribs felt brittle, his hands numb from the constant chill and relentless wind. He was pretty sure every hair on his body was coated in ice and the thin trousers that tugged at his knee shot sharp pains through a place the giant had burned him. He was miserable. He did not feel princely at all, he felt nothing more than a destroyed and battered mortal. His eyes barely peeked open and he was almost sure something, his arm, his leg, something was broken, though he couldn’t tell what. And he was at such a point of weakness, humiliation, and near death, he’d had to remind himself to breath.

            “Who goes there?” A strong clear voice, declared, nothing at all like Thor’s gruff voiced deliverer.

            “It is Ib, I am a blacksmith of the village, west of here. I found the Asgardian unconscious, in the desert, alone and feeble. I bring him to you with the price of my benefit and gain.” Thor wanted to say something, a sort of protest. He was not cattle to be traded, but the shivers that shook him and the clacking of his teeth forbid him to speak.

            “Well _Ib,_ I’ve no reason to receive him.” The clear voice spoke again. “I don’t care for his company. I only want Loki, the shame of my brother, to avenge my father’s death. He must die.” And then a thought, that lead to his initial surprise at Jotünheim’s throne being filled. Helbindi still laid in the dungeons, the brother of the King. Thor was never one to be well in the matters of barter, but he had to try something. Thor tried to stand, but fell when bones crunched together in pain, he landed on his knees and blew clouds as breath, he found some voice to speak.

            “Your brother is in Asgard’s dungeon.” Thor’s breath grew more desperate as he talked, “Helbindi? If you let me go-“ A chuckle, and Thor looked up at the large king. He was not like Laufey in size at all, but he was still a true Jotün in his height and firm build.

            “I know, I put him there, Asgardian, he was being such a child.” He interrupted, and Thor physically cringed at King Byleistr’s words. _So, no hope for trading my freedom for another’s._ “And I’m letting you free, I want nothing to do with you, I need not make Asgard to hate Jotünheim more. I only want Loki, so I can kill him.” He explained so in an oddly sweet voice and Thor sighed. He’d get nowhere near Loki. Still, he was free, now all he needed was to find someone talented and generous, and that seemed a hard task by itself in this place. But, the king’s last words before his exit startled him, “Take him away from here, kill him, hit him, hell rape him for all I care. I never needed Thor.” And the laugh and small grin that crept along Ib’s face only made the startle become fear in its most primal form.

            Thor’s heart became loud and with feeble legs he held his arm and took slippery steps out of the line of the giant. Of course he was graced with the most ungraceful giant in Jotünheim, slamming him down, scorching his skin when he squirmed. If he’d been handled a bit gentler, he could’ve easily made a run for it, hid somewhere, find someone, make it out, but he just walked, and tried his best, to hold his arm, which is what he was now coming to be sure was broken, at least fractured and tried in some pathetic, unbalanced attempt to get away. But, as though he was a garden flower plucked from the dirt, the giant picked Thor back up under his arm, and hung him back over his shoulder.

            “No, pretty boy, you’re not going anywhere.” Thor’s eyes felt sore, as did the rest of his body and he was subjected to the awful life of being a debased lug over the boorish man’s shoulder again. “Well, still thanks for your time, my King, I’ll be off with him then.”

            “Mhm.” Byleistr hummed and turned away, entering the castle, and booming the doors shut.

            “Where?” Thor spoke groggily, still not knowing what to do. He didn’t think that the man was very impressionable, but he thought that maybe if he could form some sort of relationship, he could maybe give a plea, an appeal to the cold man’s heart that would maybe set him free.

            “Shut up, you’re just party entertainment.” Thor knew by the tone of his voice that trying to be his friend was not at all a good idea. No, the guy wasn’t that stupid to trust him. What did he mean party entertainment? Was he going to cook him, and eat him for some dinner social? No, the Jotüns weren’t so barbaric as to do something as grotesque as that, at least he hoped so. And then he thought to the words of the king, _Rape him for all I care._ They wouldn’t do that would they? No, they wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do that. _Don’t put it past yourself Thor, he didn’t say that for no reason at all._ And, he did say entertainment. At the possibility, Thor panicked, he kicked with his legs as hard he could, his nails digging into the giant’s flesh, and scratched with both his good and bad arm at the oaf’s back.

            “Get the hell off me! Put me down you hideous, disgusting idiot!” Thor screeched, and the giant tightened his grasp, singing his skin again, Thor cried, shutting himself up after the scream was out, his muscles twitched at the pain.

            “I told you shut up, you damn Asgardian! If I burn your back raw, they’re will be hardly any place left for you to get your floggings!” Thor looked up alert.

            “Flogging? You’re not going to-” Ib’s belly shook at the gesture, laughing, he slapped Thor on his back, hard enough to make him vomit, had he any food in his stomach.

            “You thought we were to do something of lusty persuasion? No, I’m happily married, friend.” Thor’s lids seemed to sink deeper into his sockets, he didn’t know which was more debasing, and when they’d started, making a ruckus of the entire thing, he thought he might’ve actually preferred what Byleistr had suggested.

          Thor’s hands had lost their feeling a while ago. His position on the post hadn’t changed either. He sat slouched with his stomach to a tall wooden pole, hands tied around them, tightly. His wrists chafed against the coarse rope. His legs were cold, knees numb against the ice. His cheeks were red, his lips blue, and his beard was coated in flakes of ice.  They were having a party around him. The Jotüns talked, danced, drinking wine and feasting greatly while they took turns making raw of his back. The flesh burst off of him with every lash, his tears only made sheets of ice coat his face. He had tried not to scream, but after the first fifteen, it became impossible not to. He screamed, and screamed, his voice carrying throughout the small village, until his lungs would no longer allow it.

            “Great get together Ib, can’t believe you were able to get Thor here and everything, very high society.” Came the voice of a morally inadequate partygoer

            “Well, the little brat was laying around near death when I found him. He was shockingly easy to come by.” Thor grumbled ineligibly and listened to the blood trickle down his back. It was a game to them, entertainment. Did they really hate Asgard that much? They hated them so much to take such pleasure in defacing a man so cruelly? Thor convulsed when another blow came down, his legs shaking, his body trying to curl itself away as he yelled, which only brought on more laughter. Surely they wished to kill him. There was no way he was to live through this. The reality made him cry, his eyes stinging with his tears and they traveled down the frozen tracks of his previous sobs. Through his spiked blond lashes, he whimpered at the sight of a young Jotün boy, he would be at Thor’s shoulder, if the prince had been standing, but he looked no older than a child. He was a small giant for his age, but he had time to grow, Thor figured and noticed the uncomfortable look on the boy’s face. His red eyes bore into his own in, an odd sense of fear and somewhere warm within Thor, a place he didn’t know could still be heated in his freezing chest, he smiled wearily at him as to calm the young boy, as though he was the one in need of calming.

            The cheering and roars of laughter continued, and the boy left. Thor frowned, he didn’t know why but he wanted him to stay. Perhaps it was because he was the only one that seemed absolutely appalled at the vile acts of his seniors. And it might’ve also been because of the way his black hair swept over his ears and brushed his neck reminded him of a young Loki. Another line had formed that traded whips and canes, all cracking against his skin and causing his vocal cords to nearly snap, and when they got bored and the hour proved to be late even to a pack of Jotüns, they all left him in the wind. And rather unknowingly and uncontrollably, he fell asleep against the post, exhausted and heaving in pain. And, for once, he dreamed of something other than cold torture and a barren wasteland. He dreamt of a simple life, that didn’t involve any of this damn Asgardian exile, and torture, a simple life, in a simple realm, with a young, beautiful brunette husband and no one around to destroy them, and he only hoped to any universe and every spiritual dimension that somewhere this dream was a reality.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, over a hundred Kudos on this, that's pretty cool, really, thank you to everyone who has kept up with this story. I was pretty passionate about it when I wrote it, and I'm just really thankful to all of you, I love hearing your comments and all other positive reinforcement. I did just write this because I love writing and I love these characters, but your positivity does help to keep me updating, even if I don't really feel like typing another chapter, when I see all that stuff, it really motivates me to. Anyways, enough of all that, here's what's goin' on with Loki.
> 
> Comment and Share! :)

           Loki trudged himself over needles and pebbles in a Midgardian forest. The orange sun halved over the horizon, his fragile skin turned read, sweat covering his brow. He felt weak, breakable, and shattered at the same time. He was like a mirror, cracked into points and veins, awaiting a final blow to make the pieces fall. His limits of toleration for the rough of his life were being cruelly tested. And the blow that came was not much, but it didn’t take much. A mere slip of the naked balls of his foot and he went flying and flipping into a muddy puddle, his face, digging into its softness. He sloshed his entire body around, sticking away from the ground and cried blood curdling screams. His hair became thick and stiff and he drove angry fists into the ground. This was all his fault. He had to venture in into Vanaheim in the middle of the night, just to _touch_ Thor comfortably and now he might not ever _see_ him again.  Tears mixed with mud and, blood? He felt of his face and returned to look at the dirt stained fingers, dripping crimson. His nose was bleeding. _Excellent_ , Loki only yelled louder, scratching, clawing, and rapping against the dirt unrelentingly. And when his energy to thrash was out, he only laid on his side, his sobs dying. He’d lost Thor for the second time, watched him be torn away and thrown to the cold Jotün dust, while he stood at the gate, and let himself be thrown just as easily.

            After he finally caught his breath and his heart stopped beating in his ears, the sun was near setting. Summer crickets began to chirp when Loki finally composed himself and stood. His body ached, and his face and body was still covered in blood, filth, and dirt, dried and cracking. He spit some from his mouth and continued his way to the near clearing of the seemingly endless wood. He was sweating once more in the twilight, his hair only making him more hot, he stumbled down the small slope that lead him away from the trees. He was out, and he’d reached an odd building, well odd to someone of Asgard. It was a simple, rectangular windowed structure, tended green grass, moist dirt that felt cool through his toes. It was worth a try, he had to find a way to get somewhere. He was magicless, contactless, and Thorless, without any of them he was lost.

            But, he did not have to wait to reach the entrance, he was surrounded by humans in tight black suits, and strappy boots, guns pointed at him. He sighed, and closed his eyes in defeat of his misfortune, for he recognized one of the armed Midgardians. The curve of her thigh, and the tint of her hair was unforgettable, nor was the look of determination that wrinkled her face. What was her name? He couldn’t quite remember. Natasha, he was wary of, he name, was Natasha, or something, he couldn’t care enough to be sure. And he fondly realized that they must’ve thought him a madman. Well, with his dirtied face and bloodied nose, hopefully with his matted hair and all they wouldn’t recognize him.

            “Loki?” Natasha asked. No, they recognized him. Loki pursed his lips and inhaled sharply. He couldn’t even feign sarcasm at this point. He’d been torn somewhere beyond his limits and when he talked, his voice barely made a sound.

            “Yes?” Was all he returned. Natasha’s brow wavered and she lowered her weapon, stupidly, as Fury shouted into her earpiece. So, Odin had been completely literal when he’d said, “feed him to his enemies.” He was clever, the old hoot; send him in the radius of the Avengers’ headquarters, so he can be executed before he has any time to even try a rescue mission to Thor. Yes, it was a brilliant plan really, to damn them to places they’d never survive. Loki applauded him, truly.

            “I’ll give you one chance to answer honestly: What are you doing here?” Had Loki been himself, he might’ve immaturely spit in her face, curse at her, or laugh. He’d declare some sarcastic plan, or act smartly, despite his overwhelming disadvantage. But, he was not at all himself at the moment. Yes, he’d been many versions of himself. He’d been in love Loki, angry Loki, murderous Loki, suicidal Loki, grieving Loki, hurt Loki, he’d been a masquerade of Lokis, but this Loki, he didn’t knew existed. This Loki had seemed to regress to something childlike, infantile. His wobbling legs failed him and he fell for the second time onto his knees, rubbing silent tears from his eyes. Natasha took the opportunity to bind his hands behind him, and Loki did not resist. He walked with the small human soldiers into the blocky structure, blindly following them inside.

            He found himself in a room with a black couch that, like the structure, was extremely rectangular; it lined the wall, making an “L” at the corner. Across from the couch was a glass table and a white chair that matched the Sofa’s modern style. He took a seat on the couch, wishing it could take him somewhere he didn’t feel so alone, once inside, they’d removed his bindings and he hugged one of his dirty knees to his bare chest. Natasha entered with caution and bewilderment.

            “Hey, get off the furniture, you’re filthy. Go take a shower, and then you and me need to have a little talk.” Loki nodded and rose obediently, a young cadet with a long blond ponytail, held his forearm non threateningly. Before being escorted out completely, he turned his eyes to Natasha once more.

            “I’m sorry.” He breathed and continued on. He’d said it in the context to his sitting and dirtying the cushion, but it was whispered with much more meaning than that. Natasha, though it didn’t happen often, was stumped. She could not see if his meaningful speech, hidden in two words was some pathetic, broken apology, or if it was a mere mask of charm to gain trust and in some evilly reputable break it away. She couldn’t tell, and she had to cautiously assume the second possibility to be safe, but mud rimmed blue eyes that glistened with such a sad gloss seemed to define the word “genuine,” and prove truth behind his voice.

            The young cadet gave Loki a brief instruction on how to use the shower and then left him a uniform to change into. Loki had never taken a shower before; the things didn’t exist on Asgard. But, when he skeptically turned the handle and warm rain fell onto him, he let out a contented sigh. He ran the bar of soap they’d left for him as well over his body, and through his hair, lathering it into his roots. He scrubbed away the mud and dirt, the water around him ran brown. After he’d scrubbed until his skin felt sensitive and was pink with the heat of the water, he stood with his face to it for a while, letting the hot current ease his nerves and put him in a place that was calmer.

            He stepped out of the shower and into the washroom, remembering to twist the knob all the way back around to turn it off as the blond girl had explained. He dried himself off with a scratchy linen towel, thinking the Avengers should obtain softer fabrics. Loki scoffed at the black jumpsuit. How quaint of the humans, they were so simple and drab to Loki’s royal taste, but he supposed he couldn’t complain given his other option was to put back on his filthy trousers. So, he climbed into the suit, buckling the belt and zipping it up to his chin. It fit, compressing his skin, showing every contour of muscle, and stopping at his neck, the navy blue and blacks looked odd on him, and it was much too tight. He didn’t like it, to say the least, but booted his feet, none the less, and exited the bathroom. The same cadet stood outside, waiting to escort him. And her closeness reminded him of Stein, always stepping on his heels. Why would they even allow her to guide him? Had he hostile intentions, he could’ve easily broken her neck and ran off and out a window. Then again, the place was highly surveillanced, every hall was probably policed by stronger agents.

            They were back to the room with the blocky couches and Natasha still sat cross legged in the chair, staring at the wall, deep in thought, her brow knitted, though she relaxed when she saw the cadet come in. She stood and smiled pleasantly, and without enthusiasm, a professional, down to business smile.

            “Emily, you can leave now.” She said and the cadet, Emily, tuned and left. Loki took the same spot he had before and looked at the woman before him. He smiled wickedly. Just a rinse, new clothes and he was back to his witty old self. Once again, pushing all his emotions, negativities, and the excruciating pain in his heart to some place where it could be covered and hidden away.

            “Ms. Romanov, why such a splendid grandeur?” He waved his arms to gesture the room and she squinted her eyes. How could that broken look in his eye, turn, twist, and contort so terribly? Surely it was false, he was bluffing. Maybe he had multiple personalities, she figured, his attitude changed way too fast. It was harder this time of interrogation, he’d changed. “These suits of yours are rather uncomfortable.” He said distractedly and scratched at his shoulder. Natasha’s eyebrows were woven together again, her arms crossed, oh this was all too familiar.

            “I don’t know what it is with you Loki. So, let’s start with whatever lie you’ll tell as to why you aren’t facing ‘Asgardian justice,’ like your brother said you would. Thor said they’d take care of you up in Asgard, why’ve you come back?” Loki squirmed in his seat. He felt he should be unrelenting, defensive. But what would that do? Nothing. He had absolutely no advantage, and perhaps, if he let a little known, they could help to find Thor, even with their lack of technology, and that was most important to him.

            “I _am_ facing Asgardian justice.” Loki smirked artificially, no real mischief behind it, “but not for the reason you think.” Natasha cocked her brow, questioningly.

            “What for then?”

            “It’s really none of your damn concern.” He spat and the Widow sighed.

            “Actually, you see, it is, because, you threatened war to this planet, killed, I don’t know the body count by heart, and then come back, looking like hell, and not giving any explanation as to what you want here. Stop playing tough guy Loki, it’s not getting you anywhere. I’m trying to figure this out,” Natasha sighed, “just what do you want?”

            “Nothing from you. Listen, _Avenger,_ I’m not here by choice. I was banned here by the All Father. It’s,” Loki let go of his shield and surrendered, realizing how lost he was to act so defensive, “it’s a long story.”

            “We’ve got time, it’s not even eight o’clock yet.” Loki never noticed how much he hated talking until it came to all seriousness, and truth. When he was joking, or winding his way around something, lying, that was easy, child’s play, but to talk of his dark past, made dimmer now by the last month, it proved difficult. How could he talk to this interrogator, if he could barely tell Thor about what happened with Thanos? He could, he had to, she had to trust him, and help him to get to Thor.

            “All right, mortal, I doubt you’ll believe it all.” Natasha chuckled.

            “I probably won’t, Loki.” Loki prepared himself with a deep breath.

            “When Thor and I returned to Asgard, I was trialed and exiled to the rest of my life in the dungeons.” Natasha sat down in her chair, and Loki continued, elbows resting on his knees. He was terribly antsy, fidgeting his hands, popping his knuckles. “And, while I was there, I got into a bit of a scrape with a Jotün, who I now know to be my actual brother. Anyway, after that, I was taken from prison and healed of my wounds. When I was returned, I,” Loki hesitated to say. He couldn’t look weak to such a mortal, a naturally feeble creature. She’d think him even more insane than he actually was. “I,” Loki went silent again, fingering nervously at the silvery scar on his wrist, tugging back the black sleeve to look better at it. Natasha clenched her jaw, body language did not often go unnoticed by the widow and she granted him mercy at the sight.

            “I get it Loki.” He looked up at her, realizing where her gaze had gone, and pulled it back, embarrassed. “Continue.” He cleared his throat.

            “Odin, my adopted father, fell into the Odin sleep, which rejuvenates his soul when under stress. So, that made Thor temporarily king. After he found me, when I’d tried to end my life, he no longer trusted me to be alone. So, I was stripped of my power and released under careful watch. I was under surveillance at all times, I had to wear bands along my wrists to keep aware of me. Now, Ms. Romanov, this is the bit where my story becomes rather odd,” Loki bit the inside of his cheek as per the norm to these anxious situations and ran a hand of fingers through the top of his hair, chuckling nervously. He realized this would be the first announcement of their odd engagement. He’d been accused and discovered by a nosy Sif, but never had his declaration of love for Thor been made purposefully public. “Thor and I, we share an odd relationship, and,” Loki returned, “aside, the reason I came to conquer Earth was because Thanos had pushed me to do so, and threatened a much worse alternative. My mind was—broken, easily and controlled, and my ill motivation of such great compensation came from my sense of loss.”

            “That’s nice, that you’re excusing yourself of all your crime, but I’m still not getting why you’re here, Loki.” Loki rubbed the back of his neck, nodding.

            “Yes, right, you see Agent Romanov, Thor and I were very close as children, and in our adolescence we extended our relations I mean,” Loki’s smirk grew wider at Natasha’s unsure glance. He did love a good reaction. “We grew closer than brothers should.”

            “I get it Loki.” She confirmed, maintaining a poker face.

            “And our relations, well after a discussion, eventually, out relations—resumed. Though when Odin woke to find me freed, he did not take lightly to this discovery. So, Thor and I figured since he’d be stalking me, for his suspicion, we should post pone any further interaction.” Natasha noticed the quickened pace at which Loki cracked each knuckle the aggravated way his face moved, his heart rate even came to a slight increase. “But, the other day I discovered a portal on Vanaheim, which we snuck away to investigate at a dishonorable hour, we ended up on a realm known as Alfheim, with pretty fairies whose means of travel left us rather, incoherent, forgetful, and the following morning Thor and I were called to Odin’s company  in nothing but our actions, he banished us worlds away from one another, and I’ve no means of contact, no magic, and no way of getting to Thor.” Natasha rubbed her brow and pushed some of her hair behind her ear.

            “So, let me call back, you got into a jail fight, went to treatment, got thrown back in jail, tried to kill yourself, was rescued and put on probation, continued a relationship with Thor you hadn’t had since you were kids, went to Neverland, and got drunk off pixie dust, sent back to Asgard and then banished when your father found out about you and your—affairs.” Natasha spoke and Loki nodded, a thin smile coating his lips.

            “Yes, bluntly put, though I’m not aware of whatever you were alluding to,” he answered and she released the breath she’d been holding.

            “I was expecting a lie, but nothing that out there,” and when Loki didn’t react to her accusing him of lying, she looked at him harder, “you’re completely serious?” Loki nodded, running fingers through his hair and pulling at it.

            “Yes.”

            “Well, that _is_ a story.” Natasha crossed her arms and closed her eyes for a moment in exasperation. “All right, well if Thor’s in trouble, we’ll respond to that, but I doubt there’s much we can do to help find him.” Natasha stood; ready to leave, “We don’t have much of a means to. I’ll write up a report of all this, tell Fury, and see what we can do.”

            “Where will I stay?” Loki asked.

            “We’ll see about all that, stay here, don’t kill anything.” Locking the door behind her, Loki watched her walk away and laid down, his back squeaking against the slippery leather. Unknowing as to what he should do, or how long she’d take, he tapped his fingers along the couch, legs crossed. His mind drifted to thoughts of Thor, the first night reunited in his bed, the way their bodies moved, ready and depraved. He hoped he was all right. _Damn Sif, damn Thor, and damn Odin._ He cursed in his thoughts, why’d things always have to end badly for him? He was always left defeated and failed in whatever pursuits there were of him. Everything in his sad life went wrong, even his death had gone wrong. What had happened for him to turn out the way he had? He didn’t realize how hard he was biting his cheek until he tasted the metallic twang of blood in his mouth. He needed to break that habit.

            The door opened and a tall man with dark skin and an obvious patch covering his eye entered. Loki sat up, clacking his heels together distractedly. He recognized him, he had greeted him when he was on Thano’s expedition and quickly let the familiarity leave his mind, for he knew the memories to surface had he reflected more on the moment.

            “Loki,” came Nick Fury, his voice throaty and deep. “That’s some different shit Romanov’s told me.” Loki chuckled.

            “It is, isn’t it?” Fury sighed.

            “We have some open barracks downstairs. You can stay there until we get this whole mess taken care of.”

            “You’ve my gratitude, Sir.” Loki stood walking, sandwiched between the two agents. They marched to a steel elevator and stepped inside, Loki a bit confused by the machinery, assumed its function when it slid down to the basement of the building and the doors opened once more. Exiting, they were now in an extensive hall with black doors on either side, the doors numbered from one to one hundred. Stopping at room twenty six, Natasha pressed her fingers to the small touchpad by the door and the lock on the metal handle clicked loudly. It was a small place to house soldiers, but then again, the entire operation was very close-knit, and most it housed was mainly just guards.

The apartment was fairly small. There was a bed with mundane gray sheets, a miniature kitchen and another door that lead to a simple bathroom.“There’s more clothes in that dresser.” Natasha gestured to the small brown, wooden chest and Loki nodded. “Well, see you tomorrow, we’ll talk about the whole Thor situation, then.” She closed the door, it locking automatically. She entered a code on the same digital blue pad that’d requested her fingerprint, so that the door was locked from the inside as well. She turned to Fury, walking back to the elevator. “Do you trust him?”

            “Would you Ms. Romanov?” She gave a small snort.

            “I probably shouldn’t, but I sort of do.”

            “You shouldn’t”

            “I don’t think he’d lie about sleeping with his brother, that’s pretty embarrassing.”

            “Do you think Thor’d really do that?”

            “Well, everyone has their secrets.”    


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again, for the break, Imma probably post the next two chapters (which will both be Loki chapters, because I need them to be) tomorrow. I was going to post yesterday, but I was running around and then we went and watched fireworks and made sure we didn't get killed by any drunk gun happy bastards, wanting to mask the sound of gunfire with the loudness of fireworks, you know, the typical American holiday, so I just ended up not having the time to. Happy late 4th to anyone in America, and sorry this is extremely short, once again, two chapters tomorrow. :)
> 
> Comment & Share.

          When Thor woke up, he felt another presence around him, and immediately held whatever guard he could possibly have up, looking around and down his chest, he felt the itchiness of bandages bind his torso and the feeling of a sort of fur over his shoulders. And in the comfort they offered he did not question its generous donator and instead found himself passing out again in the small heat his body was finally retaining. In a whisper before unconsciousness, he croaked a dry throated “thank you,” to the air and saw darkness.

           The boy’s visits started out as a sip of water or a handful of berries and then they started to talk. He’d sit cross legged and Thor would try in his miserable setting to put a smile on his face. The boy would applaud and giggle and then rush away in fear of being discovered. What would they do if his generosity and mercy on the Asgardian was found out? Would they discipline him, disown him? There seemed to be little separation between the two among these brute realms. Would they execute him? Ban him to Muspelheim so he can burn and be flogged by fire giants until near death? He wondered, though more, he wondered why the boy had chosen to help  him and how he could exploit his sympathy to get him to set him free. Thor wasn’t good at manipulating people, that was more of Loki’s thing, but he did have his wits, and he needed to get back on his feet. He was healing, and without infection, chances he lived were much higher. He’d been keeping track of the days mentally by the number of nights that passed, and as long as he hadn’t slept multiple days in a row, it’d been three days. And, he spent them, thinking often of Loki, wishing he could dissociate himself entirely from the world around him. He wondered how he was doing. It was only Midgard, surely he’d been taken care of. Loki was smart, he might’ve been broken, but he was thick skinned enough to survive a land of mortal men. _Loki’s alive, he’s okay, you must live for Loki. Loki loves you, and you love him, he needs you._ This mantra was Thor’s only motivation and gazing at the black sky he made a promise to himself and to the only person he ever really loved,  _I will make it back to you_.

            And Thor’s tough, rope bindings seemed to be made of diamond. It was either that or the fatigue in his wrists was much too great. This day the boy had yet to show. Still, he managed that the boy usually would come every morning, and sometimes at sunset. Where was he? Thor had grown used to his position, his outstretched arms pulling on his shoulders, his cold knees slowly healing back. His lips peeled like weak tree bark and he had the terrible urge to rip it off, but was confined to a small shredding between his teeth. Damn, it was annoying. He, for a moment, had the slightest idea to call for the child, but quickly let the idea vanish at the known consequences, had someone else heard him.

            “Thor?” He lifted his head from its dangling position and smiled pathetically at the dwarfed giant.

            “Hello,” Thor let out.

            “I brought you water and rye bread.” The boy took from a gray parcel, a powdery chunk of bread and a canister of water. Of the water, he gave Thor first, who drank fiendishly, letting his stomach fill with hydration. And finally, he plopped little chunks of bread into Thor’s mouth. Thor ate the dry stickiness humbly though, for it was no secret how weak he’d become and though the small loaf provided sustenance, it only made him crave more. The little giant giggled at Thor’s hungry groans as he chewed the bread and licked the crumbs from his beard.

            “You were hungry.” Thor smirked, eyes closed in delight as he finished his last bight, nodding.

            “Yes,” he swallowed and looked through blood red eyes, thinking for a minute that Loki once looked the same. The thought of Loki, blue and red eyed made him smile. Thoughts of Loki, blue and red eyed, made him smile. Thoughts of Loki always made him smile; he was really the only imaginative joy he could have in his current predicament. The child took notice.

            “Why are you smiling?” Thor chuckled.

            “I was merely thinking of someone.” Thor revealed. The boy sat on the ground, legs folded.

            “Who? What are they called?” The kid spoke with enthusiasm. He’d found Thor to be very curious. Whenever he had heard his elders speak of Asgardians, it was always, foul, evil, they told stories of hatred and barbarity. But, he found Thor was none the sort. Thor had only been kind to him.

            “Hold a moment—you ask me of my thought’s name, and still have yet to tell me yours.” The boy grinned bashfully.

            “Bjorn, Now, tell me of who you were thinking, please!” Thor laughed.

            “Well Bjorn, he’s a prince.”

            “Like you?”

            “Yes, he’s called Loki.”

            “Why then, why? You must be careful. Father said it was Loki who killed our king.” Thor’s face drooped, his brow hardening.

            “Yes, well, he has made some mistakes, more than most, but yet we all fall to fault from time to time.” Thor spoke lowly, “Why do you tend to me, haven’t you any friends?” He changed the subject; the small shoulders Bjorn carried went up and down in a shrug. “How old are you?”

            “One hundred twenty six, twenty seven in two months.” Thor’s brow raised, he’d thought him to be a little older.

            “My your young,” Thor sighed, “but you did not answer my previous question.” The boy swished his lips around, shrugging again.

            “I don’t have any friends.” Thor looked up, pitiful. The poor boy, he seemed sweet. Why would he not have friends? He felt sorry for him, even in his unfortunate and unusual imprisonment, he felt sorry for the small boy. He’d been the only one on this realm to show him kindness and now he learned him to have no friends.

            “Why not?” Thor asked, shaking hair out of his face.

            “Because, I’m magic.” The boy mumbled and Thor’s eyes opened wide. He didn’t want to let out such excitement at the fact of it, but he was. How was it his luck that the child he’d formed this odd bond with seemed impossible, now only if he could comfort him enough to release him.

            “Well, how is that a flaw?” Thor wiggled his wrists around, testing their tightness, once again, only to feel their weight and an immense amount of scratching from the rope.

            “I don’t think their parents want them around me. They think I’m dangerous. I mean, I’m not! I don’t hurt anyone, but still. It doesn’t matter, all they do is play silly games and fight one another.” An odd Jotün child this was, a nonconformist. He couldn’t imagine how he would turn up when he became older, already at such a young age, he was rather thoughtful.

            “What do you like to do?” Scarlett eyes lit up and the boy leaned forward, hugging his pack and smiling hard, he clumsily pulled out a thick journal.

            “I like to go on adventures.” The boy scooted the book closer to Thor, flipping through the pages so he could see. “This is my adventure book, it has everywhere I’ve been and all the adventures I’m going to go on. I read adventure books too, from every realm. _Tales of Asgard, Forest of Alfheim, The Gold Search of the Golden Stag, Quests for the Good Nobility, Dark Dangers of Hel and Home, Indiana Jones,  Narnia_ …” The boy went on naming books written by authors all across Yggdrasil. Thor, of course, remembered none of them, but was impressed of Bjorn’s extensive knowledge.

            “My, you’ve read a lot. But how are you to go about these travels? Where’ve you obtained such foreign literature?” He inquired.

            “Oh! I go from realm to realm mostly, some I find in father’s shelves. My powers make my travel mainly.” Thor could not suppress his hopeful grin and the kid cocked an eyebrow at the silly expression. “What?”

            “It’s just, I’d like to go on one of these adventures with you. We could be partners but, I need to be let down. You’d help me, wouldn’t you? After all, we’re friends.” The boy’s face turned confused and he licked his lips, closing the book and shoving it in his pack.

            “We’re friends?” Thor nodded. “Well, I’m sorry, Thor, but I cannot set you free.” The boy stood, almost angry and Thor wanted to whine. No, he’d come so close, just a bit more times was what he needed, just to talk the boy out of any fear, doubt, or anger.

            “Now Bjorn,” He coaxed, but the boy only pouted a grimace and left. Dammit. He was so close to being with Loki again, he’d felt, and yet so far. Loki. He wished Loki was here. Loki would’ve long since talked the boy into helping him. Loki was good at that. He was good at a lot of things when it came to his independence, Thor had discovered. For, Loki had always been on his own in a sense, always by himself as a boy, quiet and in solitude. Thor was always with someone, reliant on Loki’s help. Loki was able, and not having him, only revealed how unable Thor was, and how ignorant he was to his inability, and maybe he’d have to break the promise he’d made, for the way it was looking, it only seemed that Loki would have to make it back to Thor.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I think I've made it pretty clear, that I suck at keeping my word, but America's Got Talent was on, I was watching last night's episode + recap, and Simon Cowell is just bae, so I got distracted, forgive me. This chapter is at least a good length, and I don't know, I really liked writing this chapter. However, I've got to add a little disclaimer and say that I HATE science I hate math, and I hate science, so trying to make characters sound like smart scientists, without making myself sound like an idiot was extremely hard for me. Like, it took me an hour of reading articles, being bored reading those articles, reflecting on science classes that I didn't pay attention to, and reading more articles to see if I should say "joules" or "watts." So, if any of you are crazy science people, and this does not make sense, and does not add up at all, it probably doesn't, it's fiction, it's crazy, my explanation and everything probably sounds mediocre and lacking, but I tried, and I researched too long for my non-STEM mind to handle, so here you go. Regardless of the awful attempt at scientific explanation, here you are. Thank you all for reading. 
> 
> (Also bit of a time skip here, so that's interesting, I guess.)
> 
> Please Comment & Share

         Ten days, though it seemed like an eternity, it’d been already ten days since Thor and Loki’s forced divorce. Ten days. Damn. Loki’s nightmares woke him again and his tired eyes felt weak as he stood and dressed himself in that same tight uniform and laced up boots. Each day seemed to be the same. He’d wake up, get dressed, have pointless banter with the team about Thor, and retire to his quarters once more, take a shower, dream of burning in hot coal and violet skin pressing into his, and wake up, exhausted and frightened. Though today, as well as yesterday they’d spoke of a physicist that was to come. Loki didn’t know what that was, but the way they made it out to be, this “physicist” could maybe find a way to open a hole between realms, or lead them to one. And by the Nine, he hoped so, knocking on his door. As per the norm, once he was in, he was locked in; it was more or less a prison really. And the same guard, a big guy with dark skin named Jones, or Johns, or James, something with a “J” would escort him to the meeting floor, where all the Avengers aside from the ones they, aliased “witch,” and the one he remembered, Banner, would show up and converse at eight thirty in the morning, working in a loop that only seemed to only actually move in small, singular inches toward something substantial.

            Normally he didn’t speak much during the debates, but today he managed to pipe in a few times as they waited for the physicist and everyone else to arrive. Apparently she was travelling a far distance to be there, so it was taking her some time, but he was still antsy to speak with her. It was the first drastic change in their plan of action that they’d made since he’d arrive, or at least it was how it seemed with their dull pace. And drawing from his entire time there, he had concluded a simple fact of humanity: the people talked too damn much.

            “Where’s Wanda?” Natasha asked, scrolling through something on a tablet while they waited for everyone.

            “The witch?” the short man, Stark, asked, turning from his spot at a computer desk. “She’s in…” he lingered on the word, searching the European Avenger on his database. “Sokovia, she’s still in Sokovia.”

            “Why’d she go back again?”

            “I dunno, her home country, probably has some home chores to tend to. Foster’s flying in today.” Tony answered and then reminded. The Widow only nodded in acknowledgement and continued with what she was doing. “Hey, take-over-Earth-guy, Loki, you in there?” He said and Loki glanced form his blank stare, blinking at the Iron Man.

            “Yes, lost in thought, I suppose, when will that individual be here?”

            “Soon, hold tight, we’ll find the Jack to your Ennis.” Loki furrowed his brow.

            “What?”

            “Nothing, she’ll be here soon.” Loki nodded, biting his cheeks and popping his knuckles, being wary of the sore spot in his mouth this time. He waited impatiently, as the others arrived, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, and Vision. Those who showed up to these meetings were sporadic. It was all dependent on their personal schedules, though they all wanted to help Thor. Vision was usually there, for he understood the interdimensional nature of their situation, so was Romanov, as she had more of a reliable schedule at the facility, well ever since Loki’s episode in New York, everyone else seemed to just come  in whenever. Aside from Steve, who, as a whole would’ve always wanted to be there, but his other obligations prevented him from doing so. However, most everyone showed up today, knowing that some help would be there soon. Loki gave short lived glances when they entered and their routine conversations were exchanged. He never talked much at the gatherings, and he knew most of them did not wish to hear his voice either. So, when in came the small, mousy, chestnut headed girl with a slightly pointed toe came in, he announced it with his eagerness.

            “Are you the—what they call—a physicist?” Loki asked the girl and she gave a smile at the question, one that immediately vanished when she looked to see who the inquirer was. The brash exchange had quickly died to an awkward murmur as the two talked. The tension was heavy. Of course the woman had no idea of Thor and Loki’s relationship, all she knew was that Thor was in trouble, and Loki did not recognize her as anyone he’d seen or heard of before, until her name came out of her mouth.

            “Yes I am, Dr. Jane Foster. You’re Loki, the guy that led the attack on New York.” A strange taste lingered on Loki’s tongue. It wasn’t shock, not surprise, but something between nausea and impulse. Of course, he’d heard her name a thousand times from Thor _and_  Odin’s lips, but here she was, in the flesh, not how he imagined her. He thought she’d be taller, less small, and for some reason, he pictured her to have lighter hair. It was still a swarm of whispers, like bee stings caressing the quiet air. It was odd, given she was the only one in the room that didn’t know about the extent of Loki’s relationship with what she viewed as her very, _very_ long distance boyfriend. Loki wished she was rude, he wished she was absolutely wicked, because it would’ve made his secret, that he knew she’d eventually come to know, so much easier to reveal. But she seemed so meek and ordinary. She didn’t deserve to be hurt the way she would. He’d just ignore it, until a more amiable time, if he was given one, and if he wasn’t, he figured, oh well.

            “Dishonorably so,” Loki began, straight faced. “You know how to retrieve Thor?” He asked, down to business and her small head gave a slight nod.

            “Yes, I think so.” Loki stood from his seat along the long glass table and moved closer to her, interested. The meeting room itself was nothing special. There was a desk against the wall, which held a large computer, the long glass table that centered the room along with a few gray cabinets attached to the wall. It was very mundane, very sterile.

            “How?” Loki prodded and the Avengers also grew quiet, listening to Jane speak, smart and with confidence.

            “Well, actually, I only discovered this while I was in England, but,” she began, and pulled from the satchel that was slung across her jacket a notebook, flipping through used, folded, colored, and inked pages, she opened the book at a page which displayed several circles as well as a series of numbers, letters, and other symbols. “I think it told me an easy way to do this, well easy for something so difficult. I was in London, and with a small piece of equipment I’d made a few years ago, I earned awesome readings, I went to check it out, and these kids lead us to this place of some abandon lot, there was a floating truck, stuff that completely went against anything I’d seen since Thor fell from the sky. And one of those things was a weak spot, we think it might have lead to another realm. I couldn’t see of course, ‘cause that’s when I got the call about Thor, and I booked a flight as soon as possible, but my theory is that if I can make a transfer that the anomaly could make, we could use it, and we could send Loki to Jotünheim.” When she was done talking and referring to her notes, she pulled her bottom lip with her teeth. For some reason, the physicist felt nervous, well, she knew the reason, her plan was pretty unreliable and she was only doing this to keep her nerves at bay and feed her curiosity as to where Thor was and to get to him. Though doubtful, she had _some_ confidence in her plan. It had to work, she had to see him again, she simply had to.

            “So you’re saying, you think you can create a portal? How exactly? We’ve tried with the Tesseract years back, with pure energy, nothing has worked so far.” Stark professed and Jane nodded.

            “That’s because you’ve been going about it the wrong way, you’ve been trying to push energy in and out of places, but I have some tools,” Jane pulled from her pack something that looked like an elaborate flashlight, the light part, however, looked like a white fluorescent bulb, caged awkwardly, attached to a wire and a black box.

            “When did you make that?”

            “Last evening, before I left.”

            “You work fast, so do I.”

            “Yeah, well, right now they’re pretty useless, they still need a lot of work, but in theory, we can use them to transfer matter between realms. You guys have been trying to use energy to push people in and out, but if we can simulate an anomaly, which is pretty much a glitch in physics, then you can just transfer matter between the two worlds, and send it back with the matter from this would to another.

            “All right, sounds like something we can work around, making some sort of teleportation device.” Jane nodded.

            “Pretty much, we send information from place to place everyday using the internet. This is basically the same thing, but instead of transferring information, we’re transferring matter—people.”

            “What about communication, if we’re sending Loki alone, we need some way to contact him.” Steve pointed out and Stark waved his hand.

            “Interdimensional earpiece design is the easiest thing we have to do, Rogers. Does that run on electricity?”

            “Yeah, I designed it to.”

            “How much?”

            “Around fifteen billion joules for one transport.” Stark rolled his eyes in exasperation.

            “That’s like two—three lightening strikes.” Jane nodded.

            “More or less,” Stark scratched his chin.

            “Then we better get started.”

            “All right,” Steve started, “so you and Foster will be in the lab all day I assume.”

            “That’s what it’s lookin’ like, Cap.” Tony answered with a sigh.

            “Well then, no room for us here, we can leave this in their hands now until they can figure this whole process out. Until then, everyone else has work to do. So, let’s get to it. Loki, you sit tight, we’ll have Thor soon enough.” The Captain concluded and everyone dispersed, including Loki, who went straight back to his room and swallowed the emotional lumps in his throat, brimming with anger, love and devastation.

 He collapsed onto the springy bed against the wall and divulged the pain in his chest. He didn’t cry, not again, he wouldn’t let himself. He simply sat there, eyes closed in grief, as he let the sensation of claws forcing his heart open wash over him. Waiting, he was doing so much waiting, and it’d already been ten days. He hated to think of it, but it came unbidden and unrelenting, and perhaps maybe true in the darkest part of him, the thought that maybe he’d already lost to Odin’s awful game. Thor had been in Jotünheim, almost naked, weak, and probably freezing for _ten_ days. He hated to think about it, but, what if he was already dead? And it only made the waiting all the more unbearable. He finally had his answers, they knew what to do, but he was still back to the waiting, and what if by the time they did finish and sent him there, Thor was gone? Why did humans have to make things so complicated? Had he his magic, it would’ve only been a series of spells and enchantments, and he’d have Thor back in his custody. Of course, he’d also need a spell book, and he knew Midgard held not one that he needed. But still, his mortal like form was betraying him and his patience was running out.

It was in moments like this he could feel much understanding for his own motivations. After all he’d been through, he could sometimes sympathize, understand, and maybe even go back to that damned, angry, vicious soul he’d been, for it seemed whenever things were in his favor, they always somehow grew corrupted in some way. What was the point of continuously trying to do right and be morally correct when all the forces of the universe seemed to want him to be unhappy? And then there were times, often followed by his fantastic, chaotic dreams where he wondered if he should say a simple, “fuck it all,” and die, kill himself, slit his throat this time. Perhaps his death should’ve come, Thor wouldn’t be where he was now, and he’d be dead, not dealing with these difficult, slow paced humans. The forgotten, estranged, son would be no more. It was in moments like these where he really wondered if he should keep living. If they couldn’t get him to Thor, there seemed no point. And he was doubtful, that even if he was alive, he would never see him again, he didn’t completely trust these humans, and he wouldn’t be surprised at all, if some part of their plan did not go correctly. He considered, doing it now, not even bothering to find Thor. For it seemed if he did and things turned out all right, something else would come along and destroy his content. Maybe he should just give up. But he couldn’t, Thor wouldn’t, and if Thor searched the Nine Realms to find Loki dead, he knew he couldn’t rest in peace with that crime on his hands. Once again, he found himself living for Thor, _show’s how high you hold your own stature,_ he thought and smiled sarcastically to himself. It was true though, Thor was his life, and for Odin to take away his reason for living, did not make him angry, it deemed him miserable. It made him weak. He probably deserved it though, after all the death and destruction he’d caused.

He didn’t like sitting around and moping. He really didn’t like the entire fact that he had to sit and do nothing. He should be out somewhere, helping to find him, but he couldn’t, he knew he couldn’t, and still he wished he could. Sitting alone in his cabin proved to be not at all resourceful, considered that all thoughts he had depressed him. So, he stood from his place on the bed, looked briefly in the bathroom mirror, just to make sure no tears had fallen, and knocked on his door. He needed to get out and clear is mind. He rather focus on the shrill sounds of crickets and birds than his own mind’s misery. The agent’s heavy voice came through the door.

“Yes, Loki, what do you need?”

            “I’d like to go outside for a walk.” Loki answered and the door to his chamber clicked open. The agent pressed his earpiece and said something too low for Loki to hear, not that he cared much.

            “All right, but the entire area is surveillance, if you try anything-” Loki rolled his eyes, pushing past the Midgardian and entering the elevator.

            “Don’t think me so careless as to do something like that, humble yourself,” he said, pressing the star button he’d learned meant the main floor. Scratching his jaw, he made his way outside, immediately taking deep inhales, as the fresh environment hit his face. The circulated air of the basement ventilation system left his lungs and crisp flower respirated oxygen refreshed him.

            He closed his eyes, drowning in the wind, the sounds of buzzing insects and the whooshing breeze calmed him. He smelled pine and grass, the serenity letting bits of his worry temporarily leave. Satisfied with the sensations, he began to walk, slowly and not far, around the building. On one side he noticed a parking lot, a little ways from the actual facility that lead onto an empty road. They must’ve been far off from any established civilization, he figured and continued with his small steps along the perimeter of the wide set building. The top itself wasn’t so tall, a lot of the space was downstairs, and it could be assumed that the space they needed was not terribly huge, considering operation. Loki kept on until he reached a sort of patio leading off from a large room, full with chairs and other leisure furniture as he saw through the window. It wasn’t the patio, nor was it the nice lounge he could see from the window that made him stop, it was the petite brunette girl, hugging her own arms. Careful, he stood beside her, initiating the conversation.

            “Ms. Foster,” he greeted, too formally and cleared his throat.“How is everything coming along?” He asked, genuinely interested and she gave a tiny smile and shook her head, exhaling hard.

            “Ya know, I’m not sure to be honest. But I had to take a break from there and clear my head, I was thinking myself insane.” She spoke, Loki nodded with a hard brow.

            “Precisely.” The awkwardness was gone, only the feeling of being obligated to explain himself rested in his throat. How on Earth would he say anything to her? She was human, and small, and sensitive, and she was not, above all, dumb. Loki could sniff out false intelligence with ease, but she was sincerely clever. Obviously, she loved what she did, the whole _physics_ deal. Sure, her current situation was stressful, and all her former associations with SHIELD and the whole Avengers operation hadn’t often been pleasant, but somehow Loki found it prominent that she was compassionate toward science, and he could also sense her compassion for Thor. He was lovable, the oaf, and for a split second Loki’s thoughts of Thor were positive, before once again his brain ached with the desolate landscapes that encased the blond haired prince.

            “And to look over these,” the woman’s voice tore him from his thoughts and he looked to her with responsive eyes, glaring down at a manila folder between his hands.

            “What’s that?” He asked.

            “A ‘case file’ I guess is what you could say, details, everything I need to know about this ‘mission’ as they’re calling it.” She lightly chuckled, “this is probably the most official thing I’ve done.” Loki smiled sadly. His account was probably in there; still, he didn’t say anything. She’d find out sooner or later, and this way would be much easier for him. He didn’t imagine that he saying it or a piece of paper would make much of a difference to her. He could only imagine being in her position, the anticipation that you’ll finally see the man you love again after two absent years, only to read that he’s actually had eyes on his brother.

            “Well, I’ll leave you to it then,” Loki fare welled and continued his walk, not looking back.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think I'd be posting today, there are probably some mistakes I missed in here, and this is not my best, just to forewarn, I just feel awful today, but I hope you all enjoy this, thanks for reading.
> 
> Comment & Share

             Bjorn hadn’t returned for a few days after their last meeting. It was only when Thor thought he was approaching death that he returned. And in those two days he’d started showing once more, he hadn’t stopped to say much. He’d only give Thor some water, a handful of bread, and mutter a “farewell” before turning to leave again. Though this day, he bothered to let Thor drink all the water from his canteen and sat cross legged in front of him. Thor sighed at the soothing refreshment, thanking the boy once more.

            “I’m sorry I’ve neglected you,” said Bjorn, picking at his black fingernails. Thor smiled lethargically.

            “It’s all right.” Thor assured and the younger boy stood once more, walking around behind the prince, he picked at the bandages he’d wrapped around his ribs. Taking them off, he revealed the deep, crimson scabs and welts where scars would obviously be. They only hurt upon contact at this point, and Thor winced when Bjorn began to apply a salve along his skin, rubbing it in slowly, he covered his wounds again with a fresh wrap, stuffing the old bandages in his pack.

            “I’ve decided upon something.” Bjorn announced proudly, moving back in front of Thor. “I am an adventurer,” he began to quietly teeter back and forth on his heels, slightly nervous, “And well, Indiana Jones and Fyaf Blymson In ‘ _Golden Stag_ both helped people on their adventure. I’ve decided to help you.” Thor smiled sweetly.

            “Thank you Bjorn, you’re very brave. I will find a way to repay you, I swear it.” Thor promised, eyes full with gratitude and happiness. The smile continued to pulse on his face, Loki, finally, things were looking up, he’d see him again. With that the boy took from his parcel a small hunting knife, crafted from bone and wood, he cut Thor’s bindings.

            “My father would murder me if he knew me to have befriended you.” When the ropes snapped, Thor no longer leaned into them for support, he slumped on his knees, rubbing his, raw, reddened wrists, he sighed, scratching and soothing them constantly, he stood, wobbly at first, for he hadn’t walked in twelve days. His knees slightly buckled, and his feet felt like there were a thousand needles piercing his pads. Rolling his shoulders, he listened satisfyingly to the bones crackle around inside. And though his spine called for him to wring it out, he knew not to do so, on account of the excruciating pain that would come from moving his raw back.

            “So now, where will we go?” asked Thor, still rubbing his wrists, trying to warm himself and get his body used to working again. Bjorn held Thor’s hand and looked up to him.

            “You’ve no clothes, well we must go to somewhere, as adventurers do, where do you need go, Thor?”

            “Remember the man I spoke of? Loki? He’s a Jotün too, only, he’s stuck on Midgard, I’d like to find him.” Thor answered, trying to find grounds of interest to keen the boy on helping him to rescue Loki. Bjorn seemed to be in thought, considering Thor’s request. “He does magic too.”

            “All right. We will get Loki, from Midgard.” The boy proclaimed and with another look to the boorish Asgardian, and pursed his lips. “But let me fetch you something to wear first!” And with a warm smile from Thor as he watched the child’s legs dash off, he grew more hopeful of his predicament, and Loki’s.

 

Jane had been standoffish, and Loki wasn’t stupid. It was obvious as to why her sudden distance, the quick awkward glances she’d give him did not help her case either. He often found himself in the room with Tony and Jane, though he’d no idea of their progress. He simply rather be where they were, trying to get Thor, though there was an obvious tension between the two. She probably hated him, he did sort of, attack her planet, brainwash her friend, and then steal her boyfriend in an odd, generalized sense. Loki huffed, tired of the awkward environmnt, he needed some air. Standing from his seat at a computer desk in the corner of the lab, he left the stark white room and walked toward the entrance of the building, where an unfamiliar face was familiarly greeted by Clint Barton.

            The girl was very young, her hair dark and her skin pale, she’d rimmed her eyes rather heavily in black. Loki listened quietly to their conversation before greeting them, though he could sense a source of energy when it was near him, and he didn’t expect it to be coming off the archer. The girl was reading his mind. Clever, she was, Loki was impressed, never having seen such a woman on Midgard.

            “Nice to have you back Wanda, you were gone for a while.” Barton said. Wanda, Wanda was the name of the one they called the Witch, that much he’d remembered. _Aptly named_ , he considered, _I never knew Midgardian sorceresses to exist, at least none of such a quality._

            “Well, I had to tie a few loose ends, take care of some things back home, but I’m—better now.” She excused, an accent dribbled in her words some Earth language Loki didn’t recognize., though the difference in pronunciation he did pick up on, and by the tell of how she worded things she was anything but “better.” “Who’s he?” Loki now bounced away from his leaning position on the wall, approaching the two.

            “You can tell, can’t you?” Barton asked and Loki gave a casual smile

            “Loki,” he answered, “you are Wanda, ‘the Witch.’” Loki spoke, the girl nodded. “You do magic?”

            “I guess you could call it that,” she said unsurely, still glazing over his thoughts, the others had done more than mention him.

            “Show me, I’ve not seen a good spell done in far too long.” Loki said with eagerness, an eagerness he’d not heard in his voice since he was a boy and simply learning protection charms. For, despite all the terrible things he’d been dealing with, he did still love magic, and he still wished he had his.

            Wanda had read his mind at least three times now. She thought him definitely strange. Though, she did know him to be true, which would probably relieve the others. At the same time, she felt intrigued and could sympathize with the Asgardian. She knew what it was like to have hate for misguided reason, and she knew what it felt like to not be able to use her magic. Though, she often was prohibited for much simpler reasons, like not wanting to reveal herself in public, opposed to Loki’s exile. His story interested her. He was like a recovering drug addict, only from chaos and destruction. Though, at the same time she could see that New York wasn’t all him. A wavering breath left her lips when she dug a little deeper, flashes of blue skin and burning flesh interrupted her peaceful mind and she immediately sent it away. The thing that had interested her most, and interested most of them, regardless if they’d admit to themselves, was Loki’s relationship with Thor. It was an unconventional, odd sort of love, but she had to admit that there was a beauty in it, strange, sad, seemingly fictional beauty. A light smile kept her lips, her next words coming with true trust and knowing he was void of hostility.

            “I could give you back yours, you know.” Loki raised a brow, questioning her.

            “How?”

            “So, we’re just trusting the crazy guy now?” Barton interrupted and Wanda held her hand up, dismissing him.

            “He’s fine, I’m sure. If you promise to not use it to harm anyone, or anything--my powers interfere with the mind, I’m sure I could return your abilities to you. You’ve a natural intuition, and if you try anything, I could see it decades away, so don’t bother.” Loki swallowed, slightly suspicious.

            “All right.” And with a small wave of her fingers, Loki could feel the lock of his mother’s enchantment leave, giving him a small wave of dizziness, he grabbed his head, smiling a bit as he caught his equilibrium and held his fingertips and wiggled them around. And slowly, but surely, flickers of green flame swam around his hands. He had his magic back. A sorcerer he was once more. He could kiss the mortal, he barely knew her ten minutes and he felt immediately close to her.

            “This is marvelous, thank you.” He awarded, genuinely happy and grateful. Barton looked a bit skeptical.

            “Do you think that’s smart Wanda?” Loki looked up from his green flaming fingertips.

            “Why not? I told you, I can read him, everything he’s said is true.” Clint had to admit to himself that he was surprised, and glad, it gave him one less thing to worry about.

            “For once in my life,” Loki mumbled and Clint proceeded to give the Witch a folder.

            “This is what we’re currently working on. _He_ can bring you up on everything you don’t already know.” Clint concluded and turned away, the two watching him walk down the hall and turn right, disappearing from view. Loki still had the remnants of a smile on his face. He was more than excited, had he an Asgardian spell book, he would’ve been even more than excited. He had felt handicapped without his powers and this girl was a saint to make him feel able again.

            “My thanks again, Lady Wanda, you must be very powerful. Tell me how’ve you gone to adapt such power on such a feeble realm. It must be foreign is it not?” Loki asked and followed the punky Midgardian at the same leisured pace she walked at.

            “No, we—my brother and I were experimented on.”

            “Oh, who is your brother may I ask?”

            “His name was Pietro,” Wanda swallowed and moved on, “I know your mother shared her gifts with you.”  Loki smiled fondly. His mother was the only one he could ever truly relate with on the subject, it was nice to speak with someone else, hear a different perspective. He wondered how Frigga did fair, did she agree with Odin’s decision? He could remember the conversation they’d had when Thor was banished. _Everything your father does, he does for a reason,_  she'd said to him, thoughhe was having an increasingly hard time finding that reason.

            “Yes,” Loki said, Wanda kept her eyes on the contents of the folder she’d been given as they conversed. “What more can you do than read minds and grant me my power?” Loki asked and they turned another hall and entered a room with a curved black couch and a television, vending machines, and a full bar. The seats, all seated around a long glass coffee table. “What’s this place?’

            “It’s the lounge, _Prince_ Loki.” She accentuated, giving a playful grin as she slumped unceremoniously into the cushiony black couch, crossing her fishnet covered thighs into a pretzel. Loki took a seat next to her.

            “Don’t bother calling me that. Now, what more can you do?” She finally closed the folder and set it aside, facing Loki.

            “You’re very interested, like a child,” the girl sighed, and spoke more serious this time. “I can show you you’re deepest fears, happiest moments, I can make you believe a lie, I can hurt you, very badly.” Loki nodded, bewildered by the human’s abilities, more so than he was with the Hulk.

            “Amazing. I'm sorry, It’s just that such power never comes from Earth”

            “You’re not intimidated?”

            “Of course not, how do you know that what you’re seeing isn’t an illusion? For all you know I could’ve escaped already, leaving an apparition in my place.” Wanda raised a challenging eyebrow.

            “Except, I can tell you wouldn’t do that. Without us, how would you retrieve your precious Thor?” Loki bit his cheek, sadly.

            “No, I suppose I’d know not how.” And suddenly he felt exposed, more exposed than he did when he was aware of her invading his mind.

            “It must be strange, no? I mean, you grew up as brothers, disregarding you’re your experimentation when you were younger. It’s not odd to you?” Loki sighed; he knew it probably should’ve been. Most siblings would be repulsed at the mere notion of some of the things they’d done.

            “No, I just—it never was, despite everything. Though, my adoptive father seems to disagree.”

            “Yes, when I looked into you, I could see his disapproval. Strange it is to me, but, if to you it is not, and it makes you both happy, who should be one to judge.”

            “I appreciate your understanding, thank you.” Loki gave a tiny grin and fiddled more so with the emerald flame along his fingertips. Righteousness surged through his veins with a sweet mystical flow. “I can go to him now. I’ve my powers, I cannot find a Midgardian spell book that will hold such transportation, but I can power their little invention. I can go to him. Wanda, thank you once again.” Loki stood and walked out of the lounge, Stark stopping him in the hall.

            “Hey Lokes, you care if I call you that? Doesn’t matter, you don’t get a say in anything. We’ve got everything going, if you wanna look. We’re all set, just gonna have some drinks tonight, and hope none of us die while launching this thing tomorrow.” Tony rambled, Loki nodded.

            “Yes, actually Wanda granted me back my power, thus I’ll be able to activate this contraption of yours without all the difficulties you and Lady Jane Foster complain of.”

            “Oh, you two got acquainted, _great_. But, we’re still having those drinks tonight, I need one.” At this the Iron Man and Loki parted ways.

 

Loki went to his room that night, his thoughts racing with apprehension. Tomorrow, he’d see Thor. Tomorrow, they’d be on the same realm. He’d be all right, he better have been. Loki stilled at the knock on his door. Rising from his seat on the edge of the bed, he grunted and answered it. In front of him stood Steve, a stern, honest expression held him, like always. He always seemed so serious, Loki had noticed.

            “Yes?” He asked, leaning on the frame of his door. Rogers sighed.

           “Are you coming up to grab a drink?” Loki breathed.

          “Is it best for us to be celebrating yet?”

          “It's not so much a celebration as it is letting loose from all the work we've been doing, and have to do tomorrow. Also, Stark likes a reason to get drunk. Anyways, if you want to, here’s some clothes. They’re mine, more comfortable than that monkey suit.” Loki pretended to know what he was talking about and nodded, taking the navy blue shirt and black pants that were folded in Steve’s arms.

          “Why’ve _you_ brought them?” Loki asked, honest and blunt. He and Steve didn’t get to talking much, so for him to come down with an entire outfit was rather unexpected.

          “Me and Vision were the only ones that had something you could fit, and I lost at rock paper scissors. Go get dressed, come up for a drink or two. I think we’ve all left the past in the past, I mean, Wanda says your worth trusting. Just watch out for Barton and Romanov.” Loki was horrified at the forgiveness these humans went about, this would definitely not have been handled the same on Asgard. Shaking his head, he looked down at the smooth fabric.

         “You are much too forgiving, thank you.” Loki was about to close the door, but the Captain held it open a second longer to whisper something with much more meaning than was at the surface.

        “Hey, people change.” Turning away, Loki closed the door behind him and began to undress himself. _People do change,_ he thought.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks to all that've been reading, here's another chapter.
> 
> Comment & Share

            The woolen shirt was a bit snug on Thor’s shoulders, and brushed his back with a painful intensity every time he moved, the fabric rubbing his welts unkindly. He walked beside the frost giant, or now, more like frost person. Thor was surprised by the freedom of his talents. With a simple grab of his arm and a concentrative look on the boy’s face, they’d appeared in New York, and a warm breeze hit Thor’s cheeks, and twigs cracked under his feet. They were in a forest, the one Thor had imagined as they transported to the land of man.

            “Just see where you need to go, in your mind. I don’t know the realm as well as you do. I’ve only gone for books really.” Bjorn had told him before he took his hands in his, more like yanked and they appeared where they were now, a forest, not far off where Thor had remembered leaving the last time he’d been on Earth.

            “I have to go here first and make known of my presence to some companions of mine. They’ll know where the Bifrost came, and hopefully, where Loki is.” Thor had explained, fear brewing in his chest, one of which he dared not let fester entirely. If they hadn’t tracked the energy of the Bifrost and hadn’t known at all of his whereabouts, what was he to do then? He could be anywhere on the planet.

            “Why do we have to walk? I can get us there faster.” The young boy whined prominently once their trot became the same and his senses grew bored.

            “No, Bjorn, don’t exhaust your powers. You never know when we may need them in an unplanned event. If you are an adventurer, know to never waist your resources, no matter what they may be.” Thor said and kept his short attention span at bay a while longer. He could imagine the walk to be boring for the boy, but his mind was much too occupied to be bored. How long would it take him to get to Loki? Where was he? What if he ran off somewhere and hid? What if he found a path that lead to another world? What if he’d been arrested? Or killed? Where _was_ he? And Thor, preoccupied in his thoughts did not notice either of the obstacles clouding his progress.

            The first came without warning and relentless force. The boots Bjorn had given him were rather soft soled and when he took a large step into ankle deep mud and slid back onto his spine, He screamed horrendously. He’d landed on pebbles, sharp stones imprinting on his flesh. The fall really wouldn’t have been more than a scratch had it been Bjorn or anyone else for that matter. But, Thor, this Thor, still had fairly fresh marks from the Jotün’s torment. Therefore, the rocks in his back did not feel like rigid pebbles, but wielding rods pressing into his skin, deep and constant.

            Bjorn kneeled by his side immediately. A high pitched, “Thor!” leaving his navy lips. Thor continued to wince, stretching on the ground to relieve the pain. “Are you all right?” Thor nodded hastily, not wanting to look weak.

            “I’m fine, give me some help,” he asked, and Bjorn stuck his skinny arm under Thor’s, Thor wrapping his arm around the child’s shoulder, he stood, with easy pace and too much force, stepping back out of the mud and onto solid ground, they continued on. Bjorn’s eyes grew wide at the change of color at the back of his shirt.

            “Thor, you’re bleeding!” He exclaimed. Thor shook his head.

            “When I get to the Avengers, they’ll be able to treat me.”                                                   

            “Are you sure I shouldn’t-”

            “Bjorn, honestly, I am all right. Let’s keep moving.” Thor and Bjorn continued peacefully for another minute or so, before an ominous growl past by them. Thor turned his head slowly, looking into the eye of the predatory creature; it was like nothing he’d ever seen on Asgard. A Midgardian beast, a bear, standing on its hind legs, tall and sniffing somewhere in the air. It looked fairly harmless, if it weren’t to be disturbed. “Just be quiet and keep walking.” He’d whispered too quietly, and Bjorn had obviously not heard him for he’d said as loud as the devil himself, “Marcus have it! Thor, what is that?” Thor sighed at the bear’s suddenly aggressive demeanor. Its eyes flashing darker, and its teeth barred, it let out a bellowing growl, as it begun to chase them.

            Thor and Bjorn ran as fast they could, their  legs pumping their bodies further and further, Thor’s steps were long and wide, stranger and stranger as the broken god’s body continued to wear. The boy still ran the distance with the young sprightly stamina that pushed him forward. Stopping in his tracks at a dumb realization as the bear rained a paw down on Thor’s shoulder. “Why are we running?” He’d seemed to say just as Thor received the blow and swiftly took his hand, the image in Thor’s mind closer to the clearing, where he knew the headquarters to be when he went home from fighting Ultron.

            Both panting in their new spot, Thor held his chest as he caught his breath, his long hair, curtaining his face. Bjorn looked up now, at Thor, waiting for his instruction, that didn’t come. Thor’s eyes, for the first time since that affected night, felt to be swelling with unwelcome tears that streamed his face. Mouth agape, he blunk them away. “Let’s just take a rest for a while.” He’d offered, more to himself than to the Jotün. He sat on the ground, feeling the tender flesh between fresh claw marks the bear had left. If only he’d his hammer, if he had _some_ sort of weapon, and his strength, of course, that would’ve gone much differently. Bjorn sat next to Thor, elbows at his knees. He picked up a nearby stick and begun to swing it around, occasionally hitting the dirt.

            “What’s Loki really like? All I heard is bad about him. But then, I always heard bad about you too Thor, but I don’t think you’re bad at all.” Thor coughed. He’d never felt in his life, as far he could remember, feeling this mortal, fragile and torn. Never had he experienced the pain as he did now, physically, mentally, and emotionally. His mind often moved to this realization, and this loss deep within him that told him that this was _really_ it. Something dark and hopeless told him that Loki was gone, for good this time. That he’d either never find him, or find him dead, or worse. Worse, being, finding him having gone back to being not his gentle, passionate lover, but that horrible ghost of someone he knew, that haunted him and only wished for destruction and evil among men. He was crying now, really crying, his hands came together at the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and letting the tears fall, And there was this boy, this innocent child that came only seeking adventure, that had shown him kindness when no one else would. Bjorn was his angel, and had his angel come to him now, he’d probably be dead. And he could hardly stand that even now, the boy had said nothing, granting him his tears without his childish judgment or wonder. He merely sat, and waited for it to die down. Thor, wiping roughly at his face, embarrassed, began to answer his question.

            “I’m sorry about that Bjorn, I’m just—I’m just very troubled, you see. Loki, oh my, how is he?” Thor rubbed at the dried dirt on his fingers while he thought, “He’s sly, he’s cunning, witty,” hesitating to say, “he’s beautiful. He blows me away some times.” He released with a deep breath and the small Jotün smiled.

            “You’re in love with him?”

            “Yes, I’ve loved him for one thousand years, and I don’t think I’ve actually got to saying it. Though, I know he knows it.”

            “What if he doesn’t though? You should still tell him.”

            “Yes.” Thor stated more than answered, staring into whatever was in front of him, before adding a smile and repeating, “Yes, yes, you’re absolutely right.” Thor paused, amused. “Why do you think such adult things at such a young age?” The boy shrugged.

            “Books?” Thor chuckled and, with help from Bjorn, rose to his feet.

            “Let’s get going.” He said, taking a few steps forward, the boy, still messing with the stick, stayed at Thor’s tail as they pursued their mission.

 

The morning light was bright and shot out of Loki’s blinds like small spears. He whiped at his eyes and exhaled, this morning they were to send him off to Jotünheim. And he was both filled with the right amounts of worry, apprehension, as well as relief. He’d been waiting long enough to go, he would be thrilled to see Thor again, but he still had that bit of doubt whispering in his ear, that maybe he wasn’t alive, maybe he’d died out there. Ignoring it, he dressed himself in his heaviest jumpsuit, shrugging on one of the standard jackets over it. Looking in the tiny bathroom mirror, he tied his hair back, and thought for once that he should perhaps have it cut. Ignoring the notion, and knowing now to not be the time for him to think about his next hairstyle, he laced his boots. His gaze shot up at the sound of knocking on the door. With a deep breath, he opened it.

            “Hey, I just thought I’d get you. It’s time. They’re setting everything up now.” Wanda said, she was still wearing the same thing from yesterday, and Loki wondered briefly if she’d stayed the night here. He nodded, following her to the elevator. This time the mechanical compartment seemed too cold, and too slow a ride, the dinging only annoyed him, and antagonized his nerves. In some odd way of consolation, he twisted a wrist between two fingers, satisfied at the crackling of his bones. “You’re quiet.” Wanda observed and Loki could not even fake a smile. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous. He would see Thor, he was just going to get Thor. But, it somehow wasn’t that simple. What if something went wrong? What if their machine didn’t work? What if his abilities faltered him? Or worse, what if his passage was successful and other complication were that of the realm, what if Thor _was_ dead? The same possibilities kept rising in his head, until Wanda, reading his worrisome thoughts, hit him with the side of her shoulder and said a light hearted, “Calm down, everything will be fine.”

            “Yes, well, I’m still rather upset by all this.”

            “I know.”

            Reaching their desired floor, they entered the lab. Jane greeted him with wide, tired, overworked eyes. It was more than apparent that she’d been moving around nonstop, getting everything together. “All right, Loki, follow me.” With her quick steps, they went out of the lab through the back door and she pressed her fingers to a digital pad by two heavy metal doors, they opened with a click and they entered another room, darker, more metal, and wood, filled with weapon prototypes, bullets, as well as other artillery. “Stark, was initially a weapons designer, and well he’s recommended and tweaked a few for you while you’re there. We didn’t want to send you in empty handed, after all. Here’s a gun, shoots light bullets, should shoot through any air density with the same amount of force as it would here, and here’s a few daggers, thought we should also give you something you’re more familiar with.” Loki nodded, slinging the daggers, which were already fastened into a holster, along his shoulder, he stuck the gun into the belt of his suit.

            “Thank you.”

            “I’ve just got one more thing for you,” Jane crossed the room quickly, opening a small drawer, and fingering through a couple small pieces. And, Loki realized, that this may have been the only other time he’d have to take some sort of responsibility for the effect this entire mission had had on her.

            “Jane,” he begun, releasing himself of his nerves.

            “What?” She asked, not looking up, when Loki paused again, nervous to as what to say, she’d caught on, her brow hardening, she looked more fiendishly through the rows of black ear pieces, she hadn’t remembered why she’d thought it’d be a good idea to sort it with every other one they had. “If you’re trying to say something about the fact that you’d been sent here by your unaccepting father for fucking Thor, really, save your breath.”

            “I wanted to tell you. I’m sorry you had to find out like this, you don’t deserve it.” Stunned, and extremely intolerant of the situation, she turned around, picking up the piece she’d finally found, she clenched it in her fist.

            “You don’t think I know that? Don’t talk to me about deserving. I wasted two years of my life looking for a guy, and when I finally think I’ve got a shot at actually finding him, I come to find he’s been sleeping with his damn brother. Yeah, I know I don’t _deserve_ this, no one does. And you, the way everyone around her is all buddy, buddy with you, I don’t get it. I guess it’s their PTSD fucking with their heads or something, but you should still be in prison for all I’m concerned. I’m helping you, because you know Jotünheim, and Thor is still my friend. That’s it. You do whatever you want with Thor, I’ve spent too many years caring.” Loki was silent. He hadn’t seen her so heated before, and for a second he felt as though he’d forgotten who he was talking to. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore, take this, Stark and I designed it so we can communicate between realms, I could sit here explaining how it works, but we’ve already wasted enough time, just shove it in your right ear, and come on.”

            She zipped past him so fast, a breeze followed her, and Loki, eyes wide, followed. They reentered the lab, and Jane ran to Stark, talking some science language, Loki didn’t bother listening to. “All right, we’ve got everything tested, we’re good to go,” spoke Tony, “Loki, you said you can power this, if you know what you’re doing, do it. Wanda, you staying while we boot up?” Wanda spun around in a wheel chair across the room and shook her head.

            “No, good luck, you guys, good luck Loki.” Wanda exited the room, promptly, and Loki prepared himself, taking a deep, balancing, breath. Jane and Stark settled the wire from their equipment, which they’d attached to a metal stand, so no one would have to hold it. Tony stood in the corner, watching to make sure the outline of their field would grow the right size, and Jane stood to the lab’s main computer, looking to the panel they’d hooked it up to, so they could measure the amount of energy it produced. She pressed a few buttons and the bulb part of the contraption lit.

            “Okay, Loki, fire it up.” Loki raised his hands, green flame collecting around his finger tips. He took another deep breath and forced more energy into his palms, aiming it at the device. The fire grew fiercer for a moment before it calmed back down to a subtle glow at an aggravated and nervous Loki. Still, he pushed passed his nerves and shot the energy through the machine.

            “And this will take me directly to Jotünheim?”

            “Well, it’s anomaly based, so depending where this realm is aligned.”

            “And you know this spot to be aligned with Jotünheim?” Loki, now skeptic felt his heart flutter in his chest. He knew he didn’t feel nervous for no reason at all.

            “Roughly, yes, it’s hard to measure those things.” Loki grunted.

            “Dammit, the hell with it!” With that, his fire grew larger, and Jane read the numbers on the counter.

            “We’re getting there, higher, higher, okay, keep going.” Loki grunted at the perplexing force he pushed into it, and more so, when flickers of an opening began, filling the field.

            “We’re there, we’re there, go!”And Loki , with a final nudge of his power, forced himself forward and into the small portal they’d created. And suddenly he wasn’t on linoleum tiles, but rock and sand, and the feeling of cold beneath him gave him more nervous shivers. The cold should’ve relieved him, but something about it was different, for it was cold in more than one way, and it was much _too_ cold.


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeey, it's never easy for these two, and it's only getting harder :( But, maybe things will turn around, who knows, I don't want to give too much away, obviously, so here you all go. This chapter has a lot of jumping around in it, just to forewarn.
> 
> Comment & Share, Please, :) Thanks for reading.

            “How much further?” Thor looked, or tried to look past the blinding foliage and could make out somewhat, the clearing that he knew lead to the building.

            “It shouldn’t be much longer, come now.” So, fighting their way through the thickness of the forest, the rest of their short expedition went smoothly. Reaching the blocky building, Thor sighed in relief, approaching the door, when the same woman that had greeted Loki made her way out from the headquarters, an angry and frustrated expression held her face.

            “Thor?” She ask-yelled for a confirmation she didn’t need. “What are you doing here?”

            “I came searching for, Loki, my brother, he and I-” Natasha hadn’t cut him off, but the annoyed look on her face and tightening looseness in her demeanor prevented him from going on. Pressing her earpiece to speak, she spoke sullenly.

            “Yeah, ask him to pick me up some cigarettes.” She let her hand away from her ear, and spoke to Thor, “We know, he just went out to some other realm looking for you. And if everything he said is true, I don’t know if you should be calling him your brother anymore.” Nat gestured swiftly to the blue skinned child hiding behind Thor’s back. “Who’s that?”

 

Loki stood, dusting himself off and swallowing his environment. Of course, he knew where he was. The freezing temperatures, one even his natural body wouldn’t be used to, the painful chill, along with the mist that clouded his every direction, made perfectly clear to where he was. Of course, he’d only ever read of the place, he’d only hear stories and mentions. Never, had even his extensive mind thought he’d ever be here, at least not alive. For he was in Nifelheim, that he had made clear, or perhaps as clear as the realm was fogged. Though, this cold was much darker than just weather. The spirits that weighed down the temperature left the air frigid and unclean.

            “Lokes, can you hear me?” Tony Stark’s static voice came through. Loki jerked slightly at the sudden and unexpected brashness of his voice.

            “Yes.” Loki returned, slightly adjusting the earbud.

            “Do you know where you are, do you see anything?” Loki sighed, exasperated, clapping his hands to his thighs.

            “I know where I am, though I didn’t know I’d be here alive, and there’s not much to see other than dirt, dust and fog. Though the air is like solid ice.” The headset had been made and connected to a speaker in the lab, and from the speaker, he and Jane could both hear Loki’s exhausted voice, and so with curiosity, Jane spoke aloud.

            “Do you know anywhere you can go? Anywhere you could find transportation?”

            “No, Jane, I’ve never been here before.”

            “Well, do you see anything, anyone?” Loki sighed.

            “No.” But, as he spoke, the mist shifted, shaping into shadows of men, and as they came closer, the air only deepened in its density. He still wasn’t sure if he should be yelling at them for help or shying away. “Actually, there are men, coming up, I see them faintly through the fog.” And from the fog, the men came, looking short in the distance, or so Loki had thought. For when they’d cut their way through the mist, they appeared no taller than Loki’s left elbow. Dwarves. He let out a quaking breath, increasingly aggravated.

            “Aye, I tole you it was ‘im!” One of the small, yet boorish men exclaimed. They all wore beards and had too many swords and other jangly metals falling off their loose fitting clothing. “Loki, idn’t it? Yea, I ‘member rightly well. You’re Loki, what ya doin all a’ way out here? E’rey one else is up there,” he pointed behind him with his thumb, “’less they got a new place for the drop offs.”

            “No, I-I came here using an artificial anomaly. It was an accident.”

            “You’re not really well meant here?’ Loki shook his head. “That’s right then, we was gonna rob ya anyhow, men!” With that, the other four, burly, round dwarves drew their swords, and Loki, letting out a small groan of his now enormous annoyance, took the daggers off his belt and took stance. After all, they were only a band of short men with swords, what chance did they stand against Loki?

            And with that, before Loki could conjure an illusion of himself to take the blow, the sword had already met his arm, slicing through the scratchy uniform jumpsuit and jacket, he fell back, now putting up copies of himself to distract them, only a menacing chuckle came through. And now, this annoyance had transformed into an anger, made up completely with regret of ever trusting humans with his means of interdimensional transportations, as well as the weight of how dangerous this realm actually was.

            “I’ve got a charm pretty boy, the sight of the Vanir, in my ring, that don’t work none on me and my brothers.” Loki stood, standing and walking backward.

            “Well it was worth a try.” And a dagger flew into a dwarf’s shoulder, earning a loud hiss, and instead of blood, from it rose a black fog, standing out and contrasting against the gray dusty atmosphere.

            “Loki, what’s going on?” Came Jane’s quick voice. Loki, throwing another knife that landed in another’s chest,  learned he’d made a mistake when he’d raised his arm to press the earbud further in his ear and the biggest one, with a long black beard, struck Loki’s side. It wasn’t a stab, and the slice did not run deep, but still, it hurt like the place he was in, and falling onto his back again, the entire thing fell out of his ear and rolled in the assortment of black pebbles in the surrounding area. “Shit, it’s lost!” Was the last thing she’d screamed that Loki could make out, before the dwarf’s boot crushed it.

            “Sorcerers, and their communications. What’ve you got that’s worth my while?” The dwarf pushed the tip of his knife into Loki’s chest, who tried to steady his quick breaths.

            “Magic?” Loki asked and the dwarf nudged his sword deeper.

            “Try again.”

 

“Bjorn,” answered Thor, the boy stepping out of Thor’s shadow. “I need a healer.” Natasha let them inside after scanning her eye, and the two walked through the windowed halls. “You said Loki’s gone off—to where?”

            “Some place Nifel-something,”

           “Nifelheim?”

           “Yeah, that sounds right,”

           “Damn.”

           “Yeah, well, we were trying to get him to Jotünheim, but even this sort of operation has occasional mistakes.” Thor’s throat felt clogged as they reached the base clinic. “What happened with you?”

            “Too much to explain.”

            “Well, I’m gonna need a report on all this.” Thor, not lasting the feel of the shirt rubbing against his re-rawed back, took off his shirt.

            “After, I see someone about this.” Natasha’s breath staggered for a moment, and she cleared her throat. The bandages were crimson red and bled through hard and crusted, they stuck to his back, his shoulder still producing beads of blood under pressure from his encounter with the bear.

            “Right this way.” Turning left down the double doors, leading into the trauma room, Natasha yelled down, “Hey, we need a doctor, or two, a surgeon maybe, I don’t know!” Inside the room, other patients sat in sections, curtained off, agents wounded on missions, a few largely wounded, having emergency surgery. Thor remembered the last time he was in a place like this, how it went, he now went to the place willingly, an odd healing place, very Earthlike, the stark brightness of it. Even if he didn’t love Jane, he did love Midgard, and even such simple things like the difference of a healing room, made him think so. He limped a little as he walked, not wanting to put the harsh pressure on his spine it would take to walk normally.

            “Quickly, around a desk a blue smocked nurse and dark haired doctor came to their side, He let out a deep breath at the sight of Thor’s bloodied back, sticky bandages, and the blue boy with red eyes.

            “All right, okay, come over here.” Thor went with the doctor turning to Bjorn to say, “Stay with Natasha, all right? Stay with her.” Bjorn nodded.

            “Yes.” Bjorn was only half an inch shorter than Natasha, but his age was evident. Talking in a calm voice, she turned to the child.

            “So, B-yorn? That’s your name?” She asked, leading him outside of the clinic, the two walked down the halls.

            “Yes Bjorn, it’s a Jotün name.” The Widow nodded sweetly.

            “How old are you?”

            “One hundred twenty six, almost twenty seven.”

            “I’m guessing that’s young for your race?” Natasha asked and the boy nodded.

            “Yes, well, I suppose, on Earth I’d be around, hmm—nine years old, if that sounds right.”

            “I guess so, I mean—let’s come in here for a little talk.” Natasha placed her hand on the small of the boy’s back and they moved forward and downstairs to another interrogation room.

           

“We’re going to have to pick away all these bandages first.” The doctor said to his nurses, the surgical mask he wore slightly muffled his voice. Taking a set of surgical pliers and a pick, they tediously peeled away the bandages that had stuck to Thor’s skin like an old band aid. They removed them with precision, making sure not to rip away any skin, they yanked only once a little at a stubborn piece that’d left behind small fibers in the wound.

            “Oh God,” The doctor had whispered in a sense of irritation upon seeing the dozens of lashes that ruined his flesh. Lashes upon lashes, of red, bubbling and some infected brands that crisscrossed his normally pink skin, now stained red. “All right, he needs some stitches obviously, and we’ve got to get this cleaned up and numbed, disinfecting is going to hurt like hell, if we don’t.”

            “Whatever medications are used, I’ll need it tenfold, I’m not from around here, if you couldn’t tell.” Thor enlightened, the doctor nodded.

            “Yes, I put that together. Johnson, get me the strongest anesthetic we have in inventory, and none of that new formula shit, we still have to test that.” The nurse came back with the numbing agent, which the doctor, with a large, thick tipped needle injected around the edges of Thor’s wounds, picking out any debris along the way, until Thor could feel nothing on his left shoulder, or his back. “So, these are obviously lashes, is this an animal right here, though?” The doctor pressed lightly around the wound, blood bouncing back in turn with the applied pressure.

            “Yes, some beast with fur and fangs, from here, In the wood.”

            “There’ve been bears, wandering around lately, I think that’s what he’s talking about.” The doctor said into the ear of the nurse he’d called Johnson. So, stitching up each incision that was able of being stitched, he cleaned Thor’s lashes, wiping away most of the dried blood around the flat lashes that couldn’t be sewn, until his back looked more like the seams on the inside of a dress. He only used tape on the scratches. 

            “All right, you’re all set, when the numbing agent starts to lose its affect, you may have some minor discomfort, and make sure not to keep it wrapped up, wear rather loose clothing, It needs to air out, and stay clean, all right?” Thor nodded.

            “Thank you very much.”

            “Glad I could help.” The doctor spoke as he discarded of his latex gloves and mask. “If you don’t mind my asking, who or what did that to you?” Thor grunted.

            “I rather not speak of it.” He said, considering he’d have to tell everything to Romanov once he left, he didn’t want to bother having to speak about it with some doctor.

            “Fair enough, well, I have to do a little paperwork on all this for our records, but you’re free to go. Agent Romanov wants you to meet her in the questioning room.”

            “And where’s that?” Thor asked.

            “Oh, um, well, you can take the elevator or the stairs—take the stairs they’re closer—go down this hall, you’ll see a short set of steps, go down there, and she said questioning room 3C, so that’s the third door on the left side. Got it?” Thor nodded.

            “I think I follow, have you any clean shirts?” The doctor, nodding, tapped his pen in the air at the notion, as though he’d been expecting the question.

            “Yes, just a second.” He left the small curtained area and turned down the hall, coming back with a plain blue black t-shirt that Thor put on carefully as to not brush his wounds. “Oh, and no baths with these stitches in, or hard scrubbing, take care.”

            “Farewell.” Thor stood and walked out of the clinic, down the hall, descending the small staircase and coming down to another hall, more dimly lit, he counted, one, two, three doors, and knocked upon it, looking through a small glass window, she saw Bjorn on a sofa, laughing with Romanov, before she stood and opened the door to let him in.

            “Oh, well that sounds really neat, kid, but I’m going to need you to trade places with Thor. Can you go wait outside for a little while?” Bjorn nodded.

            “Certainly miss.” The boy stood like a gentleman, Thor smiling thinly as he left, beaming at the prince, before closing the door. Thor took Bjorn’s seat on a pristine gray love seat. Natasha slumped into the chair across the room.

            “What all did he tell you?” Thor inquired, Natasha smiled.

            “Not much, just how you two got here, he talked about a ‘beast’ in the woods, as he called it; did you guys almost fight a bear?”

            “Yes, I think that’s what the man who treated me called it too.” Thor’s gaze drifted down, his hands moving in a consistent rolling pin over one another. “So, what all has Loki told you?” The redhead took a deep inhale, and drew it out her mouth slowly.

            “A lot. For starters, to clear this up, he said you two were _together_ together. Is that, right?” Nat asked, her eyebrows scrunched together like always, the indicate of where wrinkles would be first to appear on her face. Thor nodded, eyes down. For some reason, in his current setting he felt, ashamed, or maybe embarrassed, that it was true. This is just what Odin wanted, he bet, for him to feel ashamed. But he felt less ashamed for what he did with Loki, than he did to call a man who’d put his own children through this torture of a journey, father. No, this shame was coming from the thoughts of his friends seeing him as some freak of nature, some incestuous bastard. Still, solemnly he spoke, a whisper.

            “Yes, it is. We were, at least, before my father found out.” Thor confirmed and Natasha nodded.

            “For once he was telling the truth.” Thor smiled, weak and without happiness.

            “Yes, what more has he told you?”

            “He told me, he tried to kill himself because of everything in the past, that true?” Thor winced and nodded.

            “Yes, my, I’d almost forgot in all our other conflicts. I’d rather not speak much of it.” He shook his head as he spoke, as though he was revoking the memory.

            “Sorry, I was curious. He said that you were both banished. Now we need to know, what’s gone on with you.” Thor sighed, scratching his beard. “Where’ve you been all this time?”

            “In Jotünheim, a giant found me, tied me to a post and whipped me raw for festive amusement among him and his companions. Bjorn cared for me while I was left on the pole to starve, eventually he freed me, and with his natural abilities, he was able to transport us here.” Thor explained. Natasha nodded.

            “That’s all I needed. Now, come on, we gotta go talk to the others about this.” Exiting the room, Bjorn tailed them as the two walked forward, up the stairs, and into the lab, where everyone sat, it was quiet, none, not knowing what to say. Thor cleared his throat, and somehow the silence was extremely loud. The only people sitting in the room were Rogers Wanda, and Stark.

            “Stark,” Thor finally said, and he jerked up, looking at him.

            “Ah jeez, yeah, we messed up, this is an extremely annoying situation, but it happens.” Thor shook his head.

            “No, it matters not, I’m going to find Loki. Bjorn, a Jotün I’ve met along the way possesses the abilities to take me there, he’s what brought me here. I’m all but bear in my arsenal. Mjolnir is not on this realm. I need weapons, had you all not messed with something you didn’t know of, this could’ve all been avoided.”

            “Well, he did sort of use _his_ power to send him there, that’s not all our fault, maybe we take, sixty-five percent of the blame?” Tony asked dryly to Rogers, who rolled his eyes at his unwanted sarcasm. Thor cocked an eyebrow.

            “What power? He’d his stripped by my mother.” Thor challenged.

            Wanda’s confident accent came through, “I granted him back his power. I looked into his heart and saw no evil intention, and finding the part of him to control it, I undid the lock on his will of power.” Thor’s own heart caught a little at those words. No evil intention, Loki, proved it was true to rise from the darkness of one’s own anger. If only he was here for Thor to hold, to brush his lips upon and whisper strange things to him.

            “Oh, good then,” Thor said, more to himself, trusting Loki to be better protected with his abilities equipped. There was a stillness in the room for a little while, a contemplative quiet that left them all in wonders. Perhaps Natasha thought of the lost Banner, as she so often did. Perhaps Steve Rogers thought of Peggy, and maybe Tony Stark thought about Pepper, and what rough company he’d helped to manage. And Thor of course, thought of Loki, his hair, dark as night, his glass eyes, and small mouth. The niceness of the hope, he’d be in his graces again and comforted him, and most everyone was comforted by their thoughts, most everyone, except for the small mousy haired girl, that, with wide eyes after her break outside to help get together their lost communications, now returned to find calmness and came with wet, angry eyes to crack it.

            “Thor?” Thor’s head swung to the entrance, this time, his heart did not get caught, it was running away from him, fleeting in panic of this moment that he’d definitely not expected to be dealing with at this point in time. Taking a deep breath he measured out the syllable in his mind before the vibration left this throat. Turning to squint at the girl, brow beginning to clam with sweat, he whispered low, barely audible.

           “Jane.” And for once, someone loving him was a bad thing, and for once, Jane _scared_ him.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

           “Wait, now, my magic is extensive. I’m sure there is some possible use that could please your—boisterous hearts, my sullen men. Only say the word and I’m yours to command.” Loki coaxed, hands up in surrender. He still lay on the ground, knife to his chest, sweat lining his brow. The dwarf rubbed at the scraggly bit of hair under his chin, considering.

            “Can it bring the dead back to life?” Came his gruff voice, Loki’s brow contorted, unsure of the consequences of doing so, as well as not knowing their reason to need such a dark spell.

            “W-well, why would you need to do such a thing?” He asked, and the dwarf, who still held his sword, pointed toward Loki’s chest, grunted.

            “Answer the question.” He demanded, and Loki nodded.

            “Yes, only grant me use of a proper spell book and I am yours to manipulate.” The sword left Loki’s breast, to his immediate sigh, rubbing his hands where the specter of the metal was.

            “Very well, stand, Asgardian.” He did as told, dusting himself lightly. “We must go west then, to the town, and a book shop, now, men, let’s move!”

            The entire journey, Loki took his time underway to speculate and absorb the realm, never having been there before, he thought it wise to know his surroundings, perhaps he’d conveniently come across a magic portal that led to Jotünheim. He didn’t know, but he was becoming increasingly stressed at his situation. He didn’t know how much more he could take.

            Loki and the dwarves moved for what seemed like an hour before reaching an arch way that opened to an established civilization. The village looked like something mixed of every realm. All creatures walked it seemed, Aesir, Vanir, Light elves, even a sparse handful of Jotüns  walked the streets, some creatures Loki had never seen before. A few dim breweries, black smiths, tailors, and taverns made up most of it. One of the varying was a bakery and the cook of bread, the heat of smoke warming Loki’s hands and the royal smell of grain entered his nostrils. He hadn’t ate anything before his unsuccessful journey, and though his mind was much too preoccupied to feel the pangs of hunger, his growling stomach lurched a little at the scent.

            “Here, go inside and get something you can use to make us our queen.” Loki nodded and began to enter the glass windowed book store, but stopped at the registration, turning back around.

            “A queen?” He questioned.

            “Yes, a bloody queen, now go inside, and get wat’eva-the-hell, ya need.” A smaller dwarf, one with glasses, and lesser weapons came in front of the increasingly aggravated leader.

            “Our other queen was evaporated. She’s but a part of the clouds now, pity. You gotta bring ‘er pretty self back, and then, we’ll haply let ya go.” Loki, looked confused, but did not dare argue.

            “Right,” he said slowly, “I’ll be quick.”

            “And make sure you get one that’ll make her pretty!” The nicer of them reiterated, and Loki nodded.

            “She’ll be a brilliance that fights the stars.” He proclaimed, and later the silver tongue that encircled his diamond words would turn brass, and regret would shake his bones, for the mist became darker near the head of the villainous dwarf and whispered its doubt to his hairy face.

            Loki doubled his research time, searching the bookstore for a simple Asgardian spell catalogue. He finally came across something that looked old, dusty, and secretive, and only his mystical eyes could see the small inscription around the edges that gave confirmation to its use and density. Loki tucked the book under his arm after briefly flipping through its pages and, granting the clerk an illusion of coin, he joined the men outside the store, and showed it to them. “That has what you need?” Loki nodded. “Then let’s get a goin.’” Loki followed once more, walking fast, somehow their short legs seemed to be swift and carry them in a rush.

            “Where are we off to, now?” Loki asked, the dwarf turning to him, pointed, seemingly at the sky, but upon furthering his gaze, Loki found what he was pointing at through the heavy fog. It was a castle of sorts, grand and tall, like Asgard’s castle, had it been twisted and dark. It was as though someone had taken the golden palace of Asgard, wielded each column to a point and dipped it in black, dusting it with charcoal. It was like pillars of rock sticking from the ground. Loki’s face came to another contort of confusion at the sight, wondering if the inside looked as demonic as the outside did. “You know, I should, in addition, research something to get us along faster.” He’d suggested it in personal interest, though the dwarf grunted and whispered lowly and gruff.

            “We walk.” Loki scoffed.

            “Yes, but I’m sure there is a spell in here that can get us there much faster.” In truth, Loki had been researching in the store, skimming the book to find something of the sort that could send him to Jotünheim. He’d found a spell, he’d tried his best to remember the words and wield of energy required, but he needed to see it again. He might’ve been Asgardian, but he wasn’t perfect, and he wasn’t confident in his memory. If he could just get a better look at that page, but the dwarf was unrelenting.

            “I said we walk! Now shut up before I cut your bloody tongue out!” Loki rolled his eyes, opening his book, and peeking at the page. He’d forgotten why he was with him. He could’ve easily made a run for it, but if the dwarves caught him, he could only imagine the repercussions. And somewhere in him, he had some halved notion that it go smoothly, that he could just reanimate their queen and leave back to Thor, but the other half of that notion knew that his life had never proved to be that easy.

            The castle was surprisingly beautiful on the inside. It did not lose its darkness, or its strange demonic appeal, but the throne room had its brilliances. The pillars were tall cylinders of marble as misty and black as the realm itself and the steps that lead to an enormous throne, topped with intimidatingly precise swords, gilded with dark gold. It still grayed to the golden Asgard, but it was respectable in its own right. Loki opened the book again, flipping through the pages until he found the one he’d noted, by the picture of a cloud of stars filling the gutted stomach of the woman in the diagram. Reading the description, lightly as the dwarves continued down the grand hall, leading him to a room with a long alter, where he sat the book nervously, raising his hands.

            He swiftly wiped them against each other, then raised his palms and began to recite the dark Elvish mantra in the spell book, it was no surprise that a spell which raised the dead was created by none other than the darkest race in Yggdrasil. His throat hummed out the lyrics and the dwarves watched, intrigued and confused. Loki himself, wasn’t so confident in the spell. It’d provided him with enough instruction, but it all came down to creating and illusive body and making it real. But, for it to be actually living, they’d need a soul. Loki figured though, as long as he made the shell, they could find a way to fill it. That and he didn’t want to continue wasting his time staying with the brash and annoying creatures. He needed to get to Thor.

            The feminine form that came to light as he whispered the mantra, was at the very least beautiful. Her cheeks were pale with a light rogue, her lips petal pink, and her hair chestnut brown, like chocolate. Her arms were thin, but not overly, so were her naked thighs and the soft and small bosom that formed on her white chest, ivory, against black marble, the body lay. Loki let out a relieved sigh and lowered his hands after the nails of the feet had been molded. It was done. A naked girl, pretty enough to be a light elf of Alfheim, remained. The dwarves let out a simple cheer, and Loki furrowed his brow a little when a red headed dwarf turned to his shoulder and whispered into the crook of his neck. Through the gesture was no longer a question when a black mist rose into the air.

            The mist dove, much like a crashing wave, through the girl’s mouth, filling her, the stone skin, gaining more color. The golden eyes opened, and finally, with a spastic arch of her back, she gasped in her first breath. Loki looked oddly at the newly made woman in front of him. Though he’d been the one to birth her, she looked no more like the gorgeous ideality he’d crafted upon the alter. Something about the moan that left her lips when she woke, the darkness that grew in her iris, and the wicked smile that curved her lip, made even he ask questions.

            “Thank, odd prince of Asgard, you’ve birthed me again, resurrected me. And for that I thank.” Her voice, like a knife, smooth on the flat of the blade, but sharp at its end.

            “You’ve my welcome.”

            “I am Queen Hela, ruler of this realm.” Loki’s decision finally began to weigh down. He was regretting not trying to run now. And when at an eerily slow pace, the plump flesh of her right hand began to darken, to a black, and it, only at the fingertips, for the transformation was staggeringly slow, started to crumple slightly, as though the oxygen had been drained and shriveled the thought of his mistake was only confirmed. The knife tongued queen held her hand above her face and let out a piercing scream. “You, what’ve you done to me!” She proclaimed to Loki, her eyes were daggers digging into him more than the sharp tone of voice she spoke with.

            “What’re you doin’ to our queen, you villain?” cried a dwarf. Loki began to ramble of condolences as he looked back at the page, searching for an explanation. Finding it, he spoke in between nervous breaths.

            “She’s, well, here it says, the body will, well to abbreviate, the body will turn to match the soul that inhabits it!” He shouted over the loud grumbles and protests from Hela and the dwarves.

            “So, you’re calling me ugly, and nasty, and dark?” She accused, her entire left arm and shoulder were black and shriveled. Loki’s breath quickened a  bit more, for he didn’t know the power this queen held.

            ‘Well, actually the spell would be the one, not me, I just-“ a scream from Hela, and with a twist of her decrepit hand, the muscles in Loki’s throat seemed to close in on each other. He took one last breath that was collapsed in his trachea as the queen growled through decaying teeth.

            “Fix it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while, I'm working on a lot right now to be honest, and I don't know how often I'll be updating once school starts. I took a little twist on the whole Hela being Loki's daughter thing and all, it's gettin' kinda craaazy. Thanks as always, and please comment and share. (And sorry this chap. is a little short)


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEEEEELLLLLLOOOO! I know, I know, I've not updated in forever, and I apologize. Too much. It's just too much seriously, that I'm dealing with, I'm not going to give you my life story, but know that I'm dealing with a lot of personal and medical issues right now. It's just, it's a lot, so yeah. Thank you all for understanding, and for dealing with another rather short chapter. I still hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Thank You! Comment & Share!

“Yeah,” Jane hadn’t planned on being a jealous wench in response to Thor and Loki’s relationship, she hadn’t planned on expressing herself much of all, and she knew that even if she wanted to say something, now wasn’t the time. But her words came unbidden upon Thor’s already heavy shoulders. Seeing him was worse, seeing him was like a sock to her jaw, and squeeze to her heart. And so, the insults that followed rambled from her moth like an unrelenting wind, blowing around the worn Asgardian in stifling criticism. “Yeah, surprise you remembered my name after moaning your brother’s so much. Two years, goddammit! Thor, you left for two years just so you could, so you could fuck _him_ , just so you could _fuck_ him, and forget about that girl Jane that wasted two years of her life looking for you!” She rapped her fists, like light apples on his chest. Normally the small balls of flesh and bone wouldn’t have done much to the Asgardian, but Thor was not feeling terribly godly or princely for that matter and her dainty hands only chipped the remnants of what little emotional armor he had left.

            “Jane.” He whispered, pained to see her so hurt, still, with hot and angry tears in her eyes she went on.

            “STOP! Just, stop it, two years, I looked, and I finally find you and you’re some incestuous, gay, psycho, it’s like I thought I knew who you were, but I was wrong, and I didn’t, and for that—for that I have only myself to blame.” The only sound in the room left was Jane’s heavy and unsteady breath. Everyone else only stood as a silent spectator, a loss for words at the melodramatic scene unraveling itself in the front of them, and Thor? What was he to say to her? She, who was there for him in his weakest moments, she, who’d done nothing to him but love him with a love he could not accept. And he _had_ loved her, she’d needed to see that, she had to. He loved her, but not the way she loved him. Thor closed his eyes.

            “Jane, I love you, I have, but my love does not mirror your own and for that I’m sorry.” Jane stopped him there.

            “You sound just like him. Sorry doesn’t change anything.”

            “I know not what more to say.”

            “Neither do I, not to you, I thought you were still my friend, but I-“ _hate you_ , she wanted to say it, she wanted to take the knife she was already snaking inside his heart and twist it, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t push herself to do such a thing. So, instead, she turned her heel, vented and a bit relieved, she left the room, leaving Thor to be stared at by the rest of them, the silence persisted and cut deeper into him.

            “I need arsenal. Then I leave to Nifelheim.”

            “I can help you, “ said Stark, “come on big guy.” He lead him to the same room Loki had been in not long ago and opened up a tall caged compartment, and took a prototype gun he’d been working on, similar to the pistol he’d given Loki in that the bullets shot threw different air densities. “Here ya go, firing’s pretty straight forward.” Thor slung the gun’s strap around his torso.

            “You’ve my thanks.” Stark threw him a satchel as well.

            “Ammmo, just in case you run out,” Thor nodded, turning the handle of the door to leave, Stark continued, “don’t you wanna stay a day, rest, you look like you’ve been through Hell.” Thor smirked, letting in a sarcastic and dismal chuckle.

            “No, not yet.” He opened the door and walked out, taking Bjorn’s hand, after finding him in the hall. Bjorn looked to him knowingly.

            “Where to?”

            “Nifelheim.” Bjorn’s face contorted into a concentrative glare, until they both dissipated like bubbles in bath water, clearing until they stood on black pebbles and were blinded by an eerie haze. The boy shuddered at the place; it was not due to the cold. He was a frost giant for the sake of all things benign, he loved the cold, but this chill was heavier and held an energy that neither of them liked.

            “I don’t like it here, come now, let’s find other people.” Thor sighed, sad and feeling discontent, he placed a hand on the small of Bjorn’s back, standing beside him. If the gesture had been the only thing to be seen and not the contract of peach and blue, scarlet and azure, they might’ve looked like father and son, or perhaps brothers, older and younger, for Thor, perhaps, looked a bit young to fill such a position. Still, they looked comparable to those sharing some sort of kinship and Thor let out another breath.

            “Bjorn.” The boy looked to him, “I’m afraid this is where our paths diverge.” Thor couldn’t stand the look on his face, pitiful and hurt.

            “What? Why?” Bjorn demanded. Thor moved his hand to his shoulder.

            “This is no ordinary realm for young boys to explore. This is Nifelheim, there are many dangers, the creatures here are known to be unkind. I refuse to let you travel with me anymore. Go home to your parents, and be safe with them” Bjorn looked down, and something else twisted in the boy’s face that Thor couldn’t quite pick up on and not trying to, he insisted, “go now.” Bjorn scowled.

            “I am!” The boy jerked from Thor’s grasp and stood in front of him. “I’m brave, you know. I am.” And with that he disappeared, and Thor trekked his way toward the light of a village.

            Thor had never been to Nifelheim, and he found the cold worse as he continued on. Despite the constant fog that encircled him, the cold air was empty and dry. Still, he managed to trudge on, meeting the twilight of the town, the light, or rather, the little of it, that gave the realm a day glow, soon faded a darker shade of gray when he reached the town. He didn’t know how he would find Loki. He didn’t even know if he’d gone to the civilization, he could’ve been camping out in the mountains for all he knew. Still, bearing his senses, he asked around painstakingly to the townsfolk. Though the more he moved along, it seemed none of the bustling townsfolk wanted to stop, they were all closing up for the night. Thor cracked his knuckles into fists, clenching them in frustration. In a riled aggravation, he let out a pleading cry, “Please, could anyone spare a moment to tell me if they’ve seen my lover, Loki?” He’d stopped even himself at the words that came from his mouth. Had he ever called him such out loud, so direct? He didn’t have the time to worry about his possessive title to the man though, he called out again, “Please, he’s tall, dark haired-“ a man shoved past him and bumped Thor’s shoulder, as if on purpose. “He was wearing a tight suit, he wields an ancient magic!”

            Finally, upon his burst of a description a hunched and wrinkled, ogre looking man, turned his way. His snout hung slightly off his face, his eyes, big and black irises that were caged in fine lines and wrinkles, his chin drooped, and though he stood at Thor’s height, horizontally he was rather thick in his neck, which seemed to be the same size as his torso. Thor had never seen such a creature. Though the most odd seeming thing about him was the fact, that despite his odd appearance he wore something as simple as buckled boots, trousers and a waist coat, spectacles, disproportionate, to his huge head, he keened his eyes. He was the only to reply.

           “Did he travel with dwarves?” He asked, looking at Thor as he swept the step of his book shop. Thor grimaced and shook his head.

          “No, well, maybe, I do not know.”

          “I seen a man, “ he started, a portly and impossibly gruff, yet elegant voice left his fleshy mouth. “He walked through here with a little lot of dwarves, he was wearing something of the sort of black and blue color. Came here looking for a spell to bring back the dead, and to leave, I don’t blame him for that. Illusionist, jipped me with some false coin. He looks like an Aesir warrior, but had the soul of a giant and dressed like a human. Is that who you’re looking for?” Thor’s smile reached his eyes and as he talked, hopeful and giddy, almost at the thought he’d finally see his lover again. Damn, Jane, forget the venoms that left her mouth. She may have been heartbroken, but Thor was done hurting, he was in love, and that love had, for far too long been taken, molested and tampered with. He was ready to get Loki and leave to a  better place, somewhere where his family didn’t feel as they’d shown themselves to feel.

           “Yes, that sounds spot on, but-“ Thor was about to run around when he considered the examinations the same creature had made. “But why bring back and dead, when all those that’ve passed move to this region of death ?” The book keeper stopped his sweeping, and leaned his broom on the wall of his store, obviously pestered at Thor’s ignorance.

           “My, you visitors are a dull bit,” he grumbled under his breath before offering his explanation, “Listen, all right, Thor, I’ll only say this once. Naught here that breaths or walks among you is dead. Most here have come, migrated from other places. We’ve built life here. Now, this fog you see, this heaviness in the air, they are the souls of the dead, the darker ones are well—darker. If they need a body, they need an animation charm, or an illusion body, sometimes both. If one has to be brought back, they need a soul in the body, and if they are cut they’d not bleed, but release their spirit, if they are cut too deep, the entire soul may escape. Do you understand?” Thor nodded, looking p from his bashful gaze at the ground

           “How do you know all this? My name, Loki’s true heritage, how?”

           “I’m Montjaili, all knowing bookkeeper of Nifelheim, it’s a name with sentiment, really, it’s my job to know.” Thor nodded again.

           “I understand, “ he said, “where was he headed?” The old man shrugged his shoulders, and gestured right.

           “The castle.” Thor sighed and thanked the man, before booking it, though he didn’t make it half way down the road before the bookkeeper called back and stopped the eager Thor. “To travel at night in this realm, not only proves dangerous, but hazardous to its functional society. You can stay with me, and leave in the morning.” Thor, was annoyed and sullened by his words, though grateful for the—thing’s generosity, he complied.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, here I am again, it's been a while. I think I'm going to try to make a pattern of every weekend, but we'll see how that goes. Yeah, I took another twist and interpreted another event into this story, and this chapter is rather dark, so be forewarned. Thank you all for your patience, kindness and support. 
> 
> And as always, please comment and share, all that stuff. :)

        Loki gasped when she let go of his throat, and he breathed in as much air as he could. He flipped through the pages of the book fiendishly and with little care as to ripping them. And as he finally caught up to his raspy breath, he came to the fanciful page number and skimmed over the passage of this rebuttal of messing with the scales of life and death.

        “It can’t be reversed, but it can be stopped!” He yelled, Hela’s breath had become like gusts of wind, the power in both her putrid hand and her delicate one only grew fiercer as more anger weighted her chest. The two large windows behind them cracked, before they shattered, the pieces flying in the air and brushing Loki’s back. He raised his hands again, this time cupping them together as he felt the same change of energy flow through his veins. His spine shook, and he shivered as he released the burst of magic at Hela, her mixed features contorting as her skin absorbed it. The darkness had stopped coating her skin, but half of it was already gone, the entire left side of her hair ran black and singed, as though she’d been splashed with ink on one side of her body, and drained of all life from that same side of flesh. Her cheek was concave, like that of a rotting corpse, and her left breast seemed no more than the wrinkled nipple. Though her right leg appeared full, plump with life, and pink with blood, the left ran like a skeleton’s, only darkened to gray and pitch black. She held out her pink hand and the skinny dead one, and pursed her lips, releasing the held breath that was stuck in her nose. Loki stood, ready to feel that same suffocation again, but only winced at her small smile, followed by another sigh.

         She pulled her hands apart and from in came a long robe, tight in the sleeves and bodice, though long at the skirt. She shifted it on and tugged its large hood, as to somehow help to hide and shadow over her hideousness. And she stood on a sudden height, her small step toward Loki, indicating, she’d as well had booted herself. He tensed invisibly and she looked toward him, impassive.

         “It’s all right, I forgive you.” She began, and though the words were that return of an apology that was not given, Loki knew by the sly tone in her voice that he did not want her forgiveness. “Drivelle,” she called and the little man came toward them both. “This Asgardian has debased me, has he not? Disfigured me?” The little beard on the dwarf bobbed up and down as he nodded.

        “Yes, aye, he has.”

       “Then it’s only fair that I-” Loki opened his mouth to protest, but the mad looking woman shot him a gaze beneath the hood that warned him to keep his mouth shut. “Pardon, it is only fair that I do the same so we both may leave quieted and at rest. So, tell me, Drivelle, do you’ve any ideas?” Drivelle knew his queen to be wicked, and he knew more than normal with the mood she was in, it would be unwise to linger on the question.

        “Well he does talk an awful spot, I tole him if he wouldn’t shut up, I’d cut his tongue out.” He applied, sputtering it out without much thought. Hela smiled, small and without teeth, knowing if she had, she would only gleam a decaying grin.

        “How poetic, for such a liar to never speak again. He, who promised me to be a ‘brilliance to fight the stars’ and proving me no more glossy than a rotting rose. Good, but I think you and I know Drivelle,” she pulled his collar so his face and hers almost touched, she had to lean down to reach his height. She growled a little. “That I am not one to be bothered by such gruesome messes.” It was this time, when she seemed to be paying Loki no attention, he tried to pull one of the bundle of daggers from his belt. Hela sighed, releasing the dwarf, “Mellen, bind the runty Jotün.” And the other dwarf waddled toward him, taking Loki’s hands with a surprising strength and tangling his wrist in cuffs behind him, “As I was saying, Drivelle,, you must not know the amount of blood that would stain these halls to do such an operation. It’s too messy.” She lifted the dwarf by his neck and held him above her. With the same asphyxiations she’d used on Loki, she tugged at the air inside him and pulled the life from his body, his eyes rolled to face the back of his skull, and his skin turned the color of ash before she dropped him, a gray mist leaving his corpse and drifting away. She dusted her hands against each other and clasped them together at her waist. “Now, even I like the idea of him never being able to speak again, the removal of his tongues seems a bit too rough for my dainty fingers. Mellen, what do you suppose?” She glanced at the nails of her good hand, “What do _you_ suppose we do?” She repeated and dropped her hands at her sides.

        “Uh, we could,” Mellen was not a smart one of the dwarves and when he opened his mouth to speak, was only proven so with his unbidden drawl and stutter between his words, he looked to his companions for support and spat out his first idea at that one of them had mouthed silently, covering his mouth, and wiping his beard, “Sew, his uh-eh, mouth shut?” He asked with one eye closed, he smothered its lid with his finger.

        “You mocking,” She tightened the muscle in his eyes without moving a finger and they began to bleed terribly, runny lines of red crying from his sockets. She released him though, and pondered a moment, “Actually I quite like that, tie him down.” She ordered oddly, her face never changing as she spoke. Though, she couldn’t help but smile at the men’s cheers and gallops at her proclamation. There was laughter and kindred spirits, filling the atmosphere, chortles of celebration leaving everyone’s lips, well all except Loki, who could already feel the ghost of pain weaving itself into his.

 

Tears fell from Frigga’s eyes, but no sobs left her lips. She was a strong woman, and she did not like the feel of her tears wetting her cheeks, but they came nonetheless. Odin stood in front of her, the cruelty he’d felt from him didn’t feel well. It wasn’t what she’d expected. She’d initially thought them in both in favor of men, though she knew her husband had been blind to the fact. Still, for them to favor each other among all others? It was strange, to her, she saw them as her children, and at the very least, it was an odd thought that they’d caressed one another at night, but she could live with it, like most things she didn’t like or appreciate she could come to accept and be indifferent toward. And though she may still share that motherly bond to them both, they weren’t brothers. Their love for one another had done more than surprise her, maybe even shame her for a moment, but she could accept it, she knew she could. Though, the reason of her tears was not absorbed so easily.

            Her husband was not evil, was he? No, for certain, he was not. But the audacity he had to near slay the two boys rose questions inside her. Odin did things for a reason. He did everything with something to support his cause. But this? How could she find justification in this? She’d held Heimdall’s hand and seen her sons threw him. She’d seen them; Thor bound, nearly bleeding to death, his back whipped raw. Loki, muddied and passed out in the forest, guns pointed at him. And now today, she’d done the same, held Heimdall’s hands, feel his eyes become her own and see, Loki, her baby, she’d raised and taught, and gifted with her charms, chained down, a needle ready to pierce his already sore lip.

            She licked at the salty drop that fell in her mouth and began with a voice almost too low to hear. “How could you do this? Do you want them to die?” Odin took a deep breath before speaking.

            “Frigga, they’ve committed crime and shamed the honor of this family. Through this they will learn. Is it hard for you to grasp the way they’ve molested their names as sons of Odin?’ Frigga scoffed, arms hugged against her waist.

            “Yes, it is very hard Odin, when the two boys I raised are about to die in Nifelheim, because their  father could not accept some hidden love affair! Albeit strange, they are but two boys in love!”

            “And you,” he shouted above her, “You accept of this?”

            “More than I do, of _this._ What you’ve done,” Frigga sighed, not letting anything else wet run from her eyes. “They aren’t brothers Odin. They’re not. Face it, for once, this mistake, notice it. For though love may be strange, it should not be punished.” Not able to cater to his soul any more, she turned and stepped away, leaving Odin with a knitted brow.

            “Just a little longer,” he whispered to himself, “I am proven of this love and not lust if they can meet one another once more. They’ll succeed, they may not know it, but they always do.” Odin spoke matter of fact, and left his room, to the emptiness of the castle, for it did feel dull, without the two suffering princes, suffering down the hall.

 

Each time it went through it was like less a needle piercing his lips and more like a hot iron stabbing him in the face. He’d been through worse pain, he’d been debased and broken and tortured before, sometimes with more witnesses than what he had now, which was only Hela and the speculative dwarves. Still, he wanted nothing more than to scream, the tighter and more taught she pulled the thread, the harder and harder it was to make any sound. Waterfalls of blood flowed freely from the dotted seems and his head began to loll around at the pain, his sight blinding at the excruciating pattern of torture. He didn’t know if he could stand it much longer before his entire body deemed to dissociate and he passed out, and just before he could, she pulled away, for he’d not bothered to pay attention to where she stabbed at the lip. She looked at him and smiled ugly, caressing his face.

            “There, all finished,” she said, patting his cheek. Loki groaned deep in his throat at his reality. “Would you like to see yourself?” Before he could answer (not like he could, anyhow) She’d held a gold rimmed hand mirror to his face, as soon as his eyes met the disfigurement, before him, he turned his head the other way closing his eyes, and though he no longer looked at the man in the mirror, his mind did not let the glance at himself leave his thoughts. His lips were no longer pale, neither was his face that was roughed red with anger, pain and blood. Each incision had drawn tracks of blood that barred his chin like a fence, trickling down his neck and past his collar. There was so much blood. It didn’t seem as though the small deepness of his piercing would cause for so much blood. His entire jaw was stained crimson, he looked like the realm he was tenant to, and he couldn’t talk.

            The silver tongued serpent couldn’t talk. He could not throw the curses, vile names, and useful imaginations to insult those monstrous beings in front of him. He couldn’t tell her how ruined her face was, or how much he promised vengeance. No, all he could do was stare as she drew away the mirror, and his eyes filled with rage, hate, and a primal and sinister form glossed his irises. He was muted and for that, he spoke as loud he could with the look he gave her. Though she didn’t do much but smile a little at his frustration.

            “Take him to the slave bed. He’d do a good job, helping me with his sorcery, I think. Now that he can’t talk, his presence will be withstandable.” She mused and the dwarves complied, undoing Loki’s bindings, they practically dragged him to a room, that was dirty and dark. He was thrown onto a bed, dingy and soiled were the sheets. It was locked in the disgusting chamber that Loki had come to terms with the fact now was the time he needed to give up.

            What faith or hope was he to have after such an encounter? He was surely locked in now, bound to a life of servitude. There was no way he was getting to Thor. The “slave bed” was more of a prison cell, he’d come to realize as they cuffed and chained his wrist to the wall. The other presence he was greeted with later only fueled his lost hope, and seemed to foretell the rest of his life.

            For about four hours later, (he’d definitely not managed any sleep) a skinny blond girl, stark nude and muddied was simply thrown, feet and hands bound by thorns into the same cell. The girl cried and blood slowly dribbled from her groin. They’d raped her. They’d _obviously_ raped her. Loki’s heart twisted with both of their misery and then oddly enough, he began to laugh. A muffled throat chuckle that vibrated in his chest, the corners of his lips curling slightly outside the stitches, and the girl screamed, her bound hands covering her ears as he grumbled the laughter out of his nose.

            “Shut up! Shut up!” She shouted hysterically and Loki held his hands up, the creepy chuckles subsiding. “They’re going to kill me tomorrow. I heard them say it.” Loki could create an audible illusion, try to offer some sort of comfort and ask her about it, but whenever he tried to flare up his green energies, they faltered and died. He was too weak. And when the dwarf Hela had called Mellen, came, collected her the next morning and killed her outside the room and to the left, he could hear every moment. There were footsteps, the jingle of boots, the slap of her body on the ground and the pierce of her screams before a blade came down onto her, then a grumble of Hela giving orders, sloshing of blood being mopped, and then, silence.


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been gone so long...I don't mean to bitch about my personal life, but goddammit. Things have been so messy lately, and I feel like I'm being a whiny bitch, but seriously, I'm so stressed right now. Anyways, sorry for the outburst, and the ridiculous delay, I usually don't wait this long to update, but I needed a break. This chapter is thus short, but still, I liked writing it, and I hope you like reading it.
> 
> As always, comment and stuff, I like seeing all that. Have a beautiful day.

            The morning on Nifelheim was surprisingly light, the fog somehow more transparent, some of it settled to the ground. Light shined through the window next to the cot Montjaili had offered Thor. He awoke to the heavenly smell of warm bread and cooked egg. His stomach did a small flip at the intoxicating scent. The creature was strange, weird, and hard to look at, but he was more than kind. Thor did a quick stretch and entered the homely kitchen. Montjaili placed a plate on the kitchen island in front of a charcoal dark stool.

            “Sit, eat. You haven’t in days.” Thor nodded, he did so hurriedly, as soon as he could sit onto the stool, the fork next to the plate was being used to shove the eggs down his throat. Only chewing maybe once or twice before he swallowed it, and the toasted roll was gone in just a few bites. Montjaili sat a glass of water next to the plate, quickly as though Thor would bite his hand and Thor downed the glass in a record time, he asked for seconds, eating fast. “Damn, don’t think I’ve seen even a giant eat as fast as you.”

            “Aren’t you? Going to eat?” Thor asked, caring, he didn’t want to eat the poor man out of house and home.

            “Yeah, I don’t eat that lot though. Just stopped by the market to get that for you.” The bookkeeper slopped on the table a bowl of slimy, swimming noodles and a glass of something black. Looking at it made Thor feel fuller

            “What _is_ that?” Thor asked tying to feign astonishment without being blatantly rude.

            “Jam and Haganbragh, a preservation of worms, kept from my home planet Hefgh,” spoke Montjaili, slurping one of the noodle-like worms through his wrinkled lips.

            “Where’s that? I’ve never heard of such a realm.” Thor inquired.

            “Oh, eons away.”

            “Why’d you come here?”

            “Well, most of the planet was obliterated, most people died. My intuition told me to get out before it happened. My parents wouldn’t listen.”

            “They died.” Thor concluded, Montjaili sighed, nodding his head.

            “It is how it was to be.” Montjaili took a sip of his black drink, his face now screwed tight with wonder and reminiscence.

            “I should be on way.” Thor noticed and Montjaili nodded.

            “Gather your belongings, and I’ll let you out.” Thor went back to the cot and made it back up, before slinging the satchel and the rifle along his shoulder. He’d put the gun back in the front of his pants and went back to the kitchen. The blob of a man, pushed open the front door, and they both turned heads, caught off by the brash intensity of the heavy crowd that was collecting outside.

            “What’s going on?” He asked as three green haired kids ran to meet the rest of the ruckus down the town’s end and forward to the castle. If Montjaili had shoulders he might’ve shrugged them, but his arms seemed to just be an extension of his rotund and cylindrical form.

            “I don’t know.” They both stepped out, following the crowd to the heart of all the noise. The town stage was risen, it hadn’t been in centuries, and the dust from it fell hard, as the hooded figure that claimed it walked across, standing in the middle, hands outstretched.

            “Quiet, my people of Nifelheim!” She exclaimed and the diverse townsfolk immediately stilled their banter. Thor looked up with a craned neck at the other people on the stage. “It is I, risen from a short death, your most beloved ruler, Hela!” Her proclamation was returned by as many cheers of elation as it did outraged screams that roared the crowd. “Yes, now, quiet down, quiet down. This empire, I’ve built…” She went on, giving some run of the mill speech about the place she ruled for millennia and other generic announcements that Thor ignored, rambled from her mouth. He was too distracted with the familiar entity that stood behind her and to the left. His skin was paler than normal, cheeks less full, hair disheveled, and most noticeably, his lips were puffy and red, thread zigzagging them sealed. Thor pointed him out.

            “That’s him, Loki.” He acknowledged and Montjaili nodded.

            “Yeah, she’s got him. That’s why he needed that spell. He must’a brought back that monster.” Thor whipped his head to Montjaili, a million thoughts circling around his head. Sure, Loki appeared bound and tortured, but what if he had brought her back with evil intentions. What if this was somehow a plan of his. Even in this dark of times, he still found himself not being able to trust him. He did love him that he could attest to, but he’d been hurt, betrayed so many times. Still, Montjaili comprehending the alarm on Thor’s face spoke measured as to calm him down.

            “Those dwarves are her henchmen, they’re all reincarnated too. They probably made him bring her back. Don’t know why they sewed his mouth shut. Usually the queen isn’t so artistic.”

            “I’m going to get him,” Thor began to march forward determined, but the bookkeeper held an affirming grip on his shoulder.

            “No, don’t do that. Wait till the assembly’s over and go to her castle. She’s smart—and powerful.” Thor complied to Montjaili’s word once more, though he did so bitterly. Loki. He was there, in the flesh. He’d made it. He’d found him, and though he didn’t trust him, and though he looked terribly ill, he could at least fall into the comfort that now things were not at all as hopeless as they were before. All their time apart made seeing him some defining moment, some oath to their heart, and how much their connection proved interminable. Of course, maybe he was just dreaming, but, there was so much that he was sure of, it outweighed all of that he questioned. And in all his mumbling of a mind, he didn’t know if he should feel, angered, or relieved. For the way that this queen had degraded his lover so, he found it in him hard to reignite his immediate excitement as his presence, and harder to null the lividness that boiled his blood. All his emotions seemed too harsh, coming from all directions and meeting in an unpleasant crosshairs. He wanted this petty gathering to subside already.

            After what seemed like years, Hela concluded the meeting and exited the town arena, guards and Loki at her side, Thor enraged. Montjaili wished him luck as he left forward. Thor tailed the band of Nifelheim royals to the mountain castle that crowned the realm. The journey was rather short, though, unsettling, and he became increasingly unnerved as he began to feel as though he, the follower, was being followed.

 

When Loki and his captors had reached the palace once more, he was immediately thrown back in his slave pen. He huffed for breath when dust settled at his impact and sighed at the constant rust bite that scratched his wrists. Sitting in the dark, sour, smelling cell did little for his mind, or comfort and he found himself feeling overwhelmingly starved. So far they hadn’t fed him, and though he tried to not think of a delicious three course dinner including pheasant, crisped potatoes, bread, and spread of jam, he often failed at not doing so. How _was_ he supposed to eat? If they expected him to stay and be their slave, how was he to do that, without any nutrition? They’d probably let him starve to death, he figured, he already felt weak enough to die. He couldn’t use his magic, each time he tried to flare up a bit of sorcery, the green flame would flicker and die, like a dead match. Not to mention the constant fatigue he felt plagued him at the feeling of having his lips crossed shut.

            Done with fantasizing about food, and becoming increasingly irritated with himself, he kicked the bars of his cell, a hollow ringing breaking the quiet of the halls, and he heard the shouts of dwarves in a small distance. Resting his head along the wall he sat on the floor, waiting for their appearance, aware of the jingle bell of boots getting closer and closer. The dwarf looked at him, half his lip cocked up, looking messy through the bars, he gave something between the word “what” and a grumble. Loki delicately place a finger to his lips, one-two-three times. _I need to eat you ruddy imbecile, you’ll have to cut them out._ He thought, but was not rewarded with the relieving obtainment of scissors or knife to cut his stitches.

            Instead, the trollish man-creature groaned in exasperation and walked some more down the hall. Loki furrowed his brow in wonder and kicked several times at the cell door. _Where the hell are you going?_ He came back with a bowl of something gray, a pitcher of water, and a metal tube, thin, but funneled at one end. He unlocked the cell and entered, closing it behind him. Realizing the spectrum of his fate, Loki grunted noises that left his nose and bellows of protest rumbled his throat.

            “Shut it Asgardian! You mimic squealing swine!” The dwarf lifted Loki’s head up and raised his face to the ceiling. Holding him still, while the prince tried to squirm away, he lifted the funnel to his cheek and stuck the skinny end through his nose. Loki winced and thrashed his legs at the unpleasant rusty scrape of the dusty tube that expanded his nostril uncomfortably and fit oddly in his throat. Then, taking the gray mixture, the dwarf poured it through with little measure or care, dumping the water along with it. Both tasted like, dust, rust, and the twang of metal, and a few times, Loki felt himself inhaling it. The dwarf yanked the tube out, once it had all drained from the funnel, leaving him without a second glance. Loki lay, damaged and disrupted, his lungs thickened, slightly lined with the mixture.

            He was quite dumb to think they would really unbar his lips just to eat, he now realized. He’d let himself starve before he was fed like that again. As, he could still feel dribbles of the odd concoction inside his nostrils, threatening to drain out of his nose, and he quickly snorted it before it fell.

            He sat like this, in pain, his nose burning for a while, his back sticking to the cold, damp walls, sniffling snot and dribble, his eyes somewhere in between closed and opened, and the blue feet had appeared. And he did not know to whom they belonged. They were small, young, sandaled Jotün feet that crossed his cell swiftly, and with every disappearance, the grunts of dying guards were heard. They finally crossed his cell for the last time before they stayed.

            “You’re Loki, correct?” A child’s voice left the miniature giant and Loki rolled his eyes and turned his head away, unwillingly to mind to the kid. He’d had his fair ration of Jotüns. “All right, be that way, but if Thor knew I was here, he’d probably kill me. I already took out the guards, now, are you coming?” Loki’s eyes widened at the mention of Thor, and he turned back to him, nodding, aggravated, he held out his shackled wrists. “Oh yes, I forgot, I’m Bjorn by the way.” He reached in his parcel for the key he’d looted from one of the now dead guards and he hardened his hand to an iceberg and broke it down on Loki’s chains, and they shattered like glass. Loki stood, rubbing his wrists; he followed Bjorn out, walking at his side. “You don’t look like a Jotün to me.” The child pointed out, if Loki could’ve smiled, he might’ve.


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my beauties of AO3, the end of this story is nigh, I'm afraid. I have an idea for a sequel, after all I did put this title in a series, but even so, I doubt I'll post the sequel to this before I post, this other thing I've been inching my work on. If you haven't seen, there are twenty six chapters and this is the twenty fifth. I think I'll post the next one tomorrow. Thank you all who have stayed the entire time, you are everything. And this chapter is a bit longer than previously, though I feel it is a bit fast paced. I don't think I'm very good at writing action scenes either, but yet here I've written one. Once again, thank you all for reading this madness, and showing me kindness along the way. <3 :)
> 
> Oh yes and note: skin is a salve I made up for this chapter, the idea is that it regenerates skin cells rapidly basically, just to make things clear. :) :P

            “Queen Hela,” Thor addressed as formal he could and stood in front of the dark and glamorous throne. They’d let him through with ease, being the prince of Asgard, and a son of Odin, Hela seemed to find his presence an entertainment, the spoiled brat running for his rodent lover. She lied down, her body splayed over the chair, her legs across the arm, head turned away as she fiddled with piece of gold between pale gingers.

            “Prince Thor,” she returned, almost sarcastic.

            “Where is my brother?” He asked finally and Hela still did not bother to look at him, arching her head back in a leisured, lazy slump.

            “Your brother false, or brother true, or perhaps,” she said, holding onto the “s” for a while, “a friend in guild with you?” Thor grunted in his throat and swore under his breath.

            “Where is Loki? Tell me, now, and stop speaking in riddles.”

            “Your brother false is the one you seek, I’d let you see him, but I doubt he’ll speak!” She cackled as though her words weren’t iron, and her joke didn’t prove only funny to her.

            “Yes, no credit to you, for his recent dumbness.” Thor accused, and in time with his annoyance with the queen, thumping steps bounced the hollows of the hall as Bjorn pulled Loki’s sleeve to Thor. Hela stood abruptly, standing with conviction.

            “Thor, I’ve found him!” exclaimed Bjorn and as Thor reached Loki’s presence, he quickened his pace to meet him, their eyes touching each other’s gaze and nowhere else, Loki’s eyes, wide and red, then relieved and blank. They finally met, arms wrapped around one another, and though tears might’ve fell from Loki’s eyes, he was now too drained, his tear ducts too dry, to do that.  Thor wanted to kiss him hard, but wished not to hurt him, and still when they finally met each others’ embrace, time seem slowed, and though it’d been a matter of several weeks, everything it took them to get to this moment made it as though they had spent years apart. And though their hug did contain nothing but the warmth of love, and the release of all hopelessness, doubt, and fear, they were not given much time to delve into one another’s heat, a quick dip into one another’s arms was all they were granted as Hela’s angry voice pulled them away.

            “Ay!” She shouted, scowling, “Loki is rightfully imprisoned in Nifelheim, he _will_ not leave!”

            “And what’s he done to deserve such imprisonment? He who gave you life, rebirthed you. You should be dead!” Thor declared and Hela’s teeth clenched themselves together, hard, pushing soft rotted enamel in her soggy gums, she pulled her hood and stood tall, chin tilted high.

            “He made me this! This half moon of what could be beauty, if it weren’t hindered by a side of rot!” Hela ran her soft fingers over the nice half over her face until it reached the border of where beast met beauty and she let out and inhuman cry. “Guards, don’t let them leave!” And from posts and halls came, dwarves, beasts, and dead Aesir damned to the realm, all charging in time with her order. Thor pulled his pistol from his parcel and charged at a red bearded dwarf, letting out a terrible cry, his crooked teeth looked rank and his eyes bulging, he shot him, twisting around to clock a giant in the stomach, he aimed the weapon back at him, his guts hitting the wall.

            Loki turned around to another guard, a dwarf, one he recognized, his sword held out to stab him, as he charged with dedication and vigor. Loki caught him by the arm, gripping it hard, his knuckles turned white with the amount of pressure. Overcome with adrenaline, he took the sword from him and cut him down in two angry slices, hitting his arm and his stomach, his soul flooded out of his body and he fell limp. _That was a bit personal._ He thought to himself, stabbing the next man to charge him and watching his blood spill to the floor. Thor, shooting a heavy giant that seemed impossible to be shot down, left his guard down for a moment too long, one of them, a large beast, that belonged to a species none of them knew, rushing him from behind, he tackled Thor at his hips, his gun dropping onto the floor, along with him, and Bjorn, jumping on his back thrashed, hard and harder, but this beast, this monster of a thing, with its foul breath, and saber teeth was not so easily lost to equilibrium, he flung the boy to the ground, his skull clacking against the floor. The beast raised his club high, holding the spiked weapon at his head, to smash Thor, who was reaching for his weapon, Loki moving quickly, fighting off another one of her goons, cutting its throat with a final slash of the sword, ran behind the giant, simultaneous to Thor grabbing his gun, he shot him at the same moment Loki’s blade severed his heart and twisted inside, knocking blue blood onto Thor’s face.

            They seemed to be coming from every direction, without end, and Bjorn was barely recovering from the knock to his head. He stood with a stagger, rubbing his forehead, his skipper legs took him around, though fatigued, the sprite energy of a child pushing him to run through the monsters and men’s legs, scurrying him swiftly through the chaos and directly to Loki and Thor, who were still fighting to keep the little life left in them. Some of them bled, others smoked, but all of them were powerful, and they were becoming too much for Thor and Loki’s weakened frames to handle. Bjorn still pumping his legs, made it back to the center of the fight, and grabbing firm hold of Thor and Loki, one hand gripping Thor’s shoulder, the other holding Loki’s bicep, he screamed over the clattering of weaponry and the crack of gunfire.

            “What does the Bifrost look like?” Thor, catching on, cleared his mind enough to fire a bullet into the oncoming dwarf whilst picturing the golden gates of Asgard, and in a small instant they were no longer sprayed with blood, but flooded with light.

            Thor fell to his knees and coughed onto the floor of the Bifrost, dropping his weapon and taking a deep breath of Asgard air, Loki helped him back to his feet, and Thor looked to Bjorn with a growl. Bjorn’s eyes widened in fear and surprise.

            “I told you to stay back! Can you not listen to such simplistic directions!” He scolded. “You’re parents must be worried to tears! You could have died! Did you not fathom the impact of your head on the ground, do you know how powerful and dangerous Queen Hela is, who you now know personally!” Bjorn’s mouth bunched into a knot and he huffed.

            “I checked in with my parents every night, and left every morning.” He retorted. Thor, mouth agape, didn’t know where to turn, shaking his head with anger, he felt as though he could explode.

            “You’re missing the point! You could have _died_!” He reiterated and Bjorn groaned.

            “You could have died too, Thor. I helped return you and _Loki_ , couldn’t you at least grant me thanks?” Thor sighed, thinking it funny how children picked the times of which and when they wished to be smart, apart from when they wished to be children.

            “Thank you.” Thor absented his attention from Bjorn and turned to their smirking audience, Thor swallowed deeply as he looked to Heimdall. “Heimdall, where is father?”

            “My princes _have_ returned,” his deep voice purred, “I’ll note him of your arrival.”

            “Bjorn, go home, I’ll visit you in no less than a fortnight. My word on my honor.” He saluted the boy, and Bjorn, with a smile, disappeared. Thor held Loki’s neck with a sour expression. “Norns, what they’ve done.” He whispered, and Loki shook his head away. “Let’s get us to healers.”

            The two walked fast across the bridge, and into the golden gates of the palace. Skipping the throne room, they quickly went into the soft hands of the healers. The healing room, consisting of an assortment of medical tools, salves, and a bed for patients to lie in. The patterns of the bed the room were too fanciful and too red to be calm, and Loki, protesting to be touched, took a set of silver scissors from their store of equipment and begun to cut the seams of his lips himself, carefully snipping at the strings that tied his mouth shut, each string snapping with a tug of pain. And though the nurses were smart to mind Loki to himself, they rushed to Thor with heavy heartedness and worry.

            “Prince Thor!” exclaimed one of them, “Does Odin know of your return?”

           “Why, he’s said you’re banished!” Spoke another. Thor smiled painfully and sighed, the eldest of the nurses gestured the younger to the side, rolling her eyes.

          “Leave the poor soul alone, come here, young prince, you must be tired, we could help you to your bed. And pardon these young girls rude and intrusive behavior.” She looked to the girls with disapproval and they bowed their heads down in correction. “And, he,” she nodded her head to Loki. “He’s all right?”

         “I put together he is. Though I’m in need of tending to myself.” The woman nodded, brows raised with concern.

        “Oh, yes, of course, come here and lie down.” Thor did as told, removing his shirt, he laid on his stomach and Loki glanced at Thor’s back and a small stutter of breath left his freshly freed mouth. He touched the empty seams of his lips and felt new blood seeping through the wounds, he reached for a salve, one that could clear up a minor issue like his once tied mouth. Though, the wounds on Thor’s back, he saw, blood red, stitched by Midgardian thread, would not heal so easily. _Norns what_ they’ve _done._ Loki thought to comment, but did not speak. Endless scabs and lashes that crisscrossed him, forming spider webs of what would be scars, for even the best healers in Asgard, could not completely erase the signs of such a beating. After staring a while in painful silence, Loki turned away and continued to apply the salve and skin to his lips, not literal skin, but the ointment of the same name they used to repair flesh. He worked it into his wounds, feeling a minty burn heal the holes around his lips, and then he applied the skin, which repaired most of the marks, so that none of the damage showed, the difference in the touch of his skin was hardly evident. Closing each of the containers, Loki set them back with the others, making his way to Thor’s bedside, glaring over it.

         They removed the stitches, with care, stopping to pour more of the numbing ointment over his wounds ever so often. They delicately applied the healing salve, along with another mixture of minerals into his back, closing it all with a tissue pen, and a thin layer of skin. Thor groaned at the sensations, some painful, even through the numbing agent, and some relieving. And Loki’s fingers touched the scruff of Thor’s face, lingering underneath his lips, and then the door opened. Loud, quick, but not overly so, and the dignity of the soul had spoken to who it was. The atmosphere seemed changed at his arrival. Loki recoiled and tucked his hands in his elbows as Odin spoke.

        “You’ve returned, as I expected, so greet me with your demands and all will be fulfilled.” He spoke clear and usually loud. The words lingered in the air as Loki stood, appalled and anguished. This man, a self righteous, angry bastard, who spoke as though all was okay, as though his actions toward their affair was some regular penance now to be reaped and repaid. His eyes grew hot with anger, his throat sore.

        “You expected? Why? I thought we were—banished.” He spoke, and hearing himself speak again, for the first time in a week or so, he sounded hoarse, his voice rough, weak and terrible. Protective of him, he touched at Thor’s hair, as though he was scared Odin would take him away again.

       “It was a test of this, seeing your affair, if it was sinful lust, or unconditional love.” Loki, disgusted, and too glad to be in Thor’s presence did not move his poker face, remaining entirely impassive to the absurdity he was hearing. How could he think that this “test” was somehow all right? He’d nearly let them both die, never mind his forgotten, criminal, adoptee, but his only son? His heir to the throne? That he raised, that he, questionably, loved? The danger he put them in was nearly unforgivable. Just glancing down at Thor’s wounds again, which would probably be scars for the rest of his life, Loki let out a deep breath, and Thor took his hand. Loki looked back to Odin, stifling the rage that threatened to burst if he had to look at the man for another second.

       “Leave us.” Two small words, that held such convicted hate and betrayal. Odin, not willing to test Loki giving _him_ orders, nodded, letting the guard close the door. Before it closed all the way, he stopped to speak a final time.

      “If you see me tomorrow, I’d like more to elaborately speak—“ Loki’s eyes became glossy, tears pooling at the wells of them, his breath was staggering.

      “Just leave,” he requested, and the door closed. He dropped his hand, held in Thor’s and held the balls of his palms into his forehead, rubbing the tears in his eyes, smashing them into his face. He calmed himself and began to regulate his breathing. “What more’ve you left to do to him?” He asked and the head nurse gave a tiny grin.

        “We’re almost done, Prince Loki, I’ve only to add a layer of skin, and he may be left on his way.” Loki smiled slightly, a small one that twitched in discomfort.

       “Thank you.” When they had finished with the last layer of Thor’s reconstruction, all but remained were thin, jagged lightening branched scars across his back that held the same shimmery texture as the one on Loki’s wrist. Loki helped him off the bed, and embraced him once more, pecking his lips now that they were untied and healed. They thanked the nurses once more and bid them farewell, before dropping themselves in Thor’s bedroom. Loki sat on the oak and velvet ottoman at the foot of Thor’s bed, while Thor took a place behind the footboard, sitting behind Loki. Though the room was vast, and familiar, it seemed too small, too quiet, and in a strange, inexplicable way, foreign. It seemed they’d familiarized themselves only to endless and round the clock chaos and pain, and the silence of the bedroom only seemed—loud.

        “What do we do now?” Loki asked, tracing around his lips where the thread had poked through. He’d be the only one to ever feel the difference. Thor took in a deep breath and ran tired fingers through his hair, nervous to even think of the ropes that pulled at his conscious, and his heart, but Thor hardly knew that he was to follow the latter.

        “Let’s leave,” he said, and placed massaging hands on Loki’s shoulders, causing him to smile and groan with pleasure. Loki closed his eyes, soaking into the sensation; he hoped his hands would never leave him. “This place no longer feels like home. We should go, runaway, things we used to speak of.”

       “Leave—why? We’ve lived here all this time. Where do you suggest we go?”

       “Midgard, Alfheim, anywhere but here, if we left to Midgard, I’m more than certain Stark would assist us in our immigration. And well, I figured, if we were married, they’d have to let you come with me.” Loki’s head turned so fast to meet Thor’s his neck may have broke.

      “Marriage? You never spoke of marriage.” Loki’s voice still cracked in some places, and Thor looked to him, worried as to what he’d say.

      “Now I do. Loki, there’s no one else I’ll be with. Would you? And then, we leave, I looked to the sky when we returned to Asgard and I could not call myself comforted by my home. I only felt its glory, without the sense of it being mine.” Thor rambled, trying to hide his proposal between the mentions of moving. A smile crept on Loki’s face and he laughed, coughing a little into it.

      “You’re ridiculous, Thor, we can’t be married. What is marriage anyway? It’s a stupid device for creating political withstandings. Things are fine how they are now.”

     “No, Loki, it’s not, why must you always speak of everything as though you are above it? I do not wish to argue. I want us to be married.” Loki laughed, his eyes wide.

    “All right,” he relented, “but we’re not leaving.” Thor rolled his eyes.

    “Why in the world would you want to stay?” Loki looked to him with a hardened expression and groaned.

    “We’re princes of _Asgard_. Here is where we belong, we do not fit among the humans, and while Alfheim was nice to visit, I’d like not to live there. We stay here Thor. This is our home, you’re just not used to being back yet, I mean, we’ve been through a lot, these past few weeks.”

     “Fine,” Thor submitted, “we’ll stay.”


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just put up the sequel, and I'm super excited to be posting on here again, so please, new readers once you've finished this chapter, and old readers, I hope you find out somehow, please click that little arrow next to the series button to take yourself to the first chapter of Ardor & Armed, thanks to those returning and thanks to those that are new, now please go read the first chapter if you haven't finished this one already, I'm super stoked and inspired. Thank you all for your following! :)

        Thor and Loki skipped any physically sensual activities in their extreme fatigue, and slept, despite the hour, for the rest of the day. When they finally woke, the stars were out and the sky was deep and black. Loki, being the first awake, jerking from a lesser vivid nightmare, walked, still in the dumb uniform, as he hadn’t managed to take it off yet, outside. Leaning over the railing of Thor’s balcony, Loki held his freshly wakened face in his hands and looked into the sky, soaking in the many moons, stars, and twinkles across the dark Asgardian night. It was gorgeous, each light a pretty crater into the empty dark. The amount of stars was like the amount of times he’d thought he’d never see the Asgardian night again. And looking into it, he couldn’t help but as to wonder how, or rather why in the world he’d ended up where he was now, leaning over his brother’s balcony in a Midgardian uniform.

         He was a sweet child, cute, a little skinny, Thor had always been the chubby one when the two were infants, and they grew into hopeful children. They’d both dreamed of being king, of being looked upon the same way people looked at their father, Loki, feeling outshined by his senior, still he did not let such petty envy show. And then were their teens, the awkwardness of growing hairs on their bodies, where they’d not known they were to have hair, their voices, going in and out. And as they matured past their pubescence the drunken nights, where Thor made Loki feel like something more than just the second child, where _he_ was his first priority. And now, it paled in comparison, a star among suns, now they were adults. Loki’s jealousy after their unexplained divorce, his betrayal,, his insanity, tortures, his strife, failed attempts at conquer, imprisonment, fights, suicide, and then there was the forgiveness, the love, the reunion. And it was all torn apart by a man he’d just been learning to call father again. But they had each other again, despite their temporary severance. They were in each other’s arms once more, after the beatings, the sewing, the cold. How’d he end _here_? What was the significance of _here_? How could this place, after all the cracks, slashes, and crumbles in his life, shine out of the brass? And among those stars, Loki had finally realized that it didn’t, and it never really had.

         Thor woke to too cold sheets and a subtle breeze. Looking in a frenzy for a second to find his bed empty, his heart thudded at the sight of the open door. They’d been through enough; Loki surely wouldn’t have tried his life again would he? But, to his relief, he made out Loki’s silhouette through the dark, reflective glass door, and followed his trail, greeting him in nighttime air. Wrapping his tree trunk arms around Loki’s waist, Loki savored his scent, hoping he’d never be far from it again. He closed his eyes, fearing tears would fall if he hadn’t

          “You’re right,” came Loki’s voice, lower and gruffer than normal, his groggy just-woke-up voice, mixing with his just-had-my-mouth-untied voice. “This place doesn’t feel like home.” He sighed, “after we’re _married_ , as you insist, and if Odin be it, we’ll leave.”

          “Odin cannot deny us that, he said us to lay our demands. When we speak to him, we will tell him of this.” Loki turned his head slightly, surprised and slightly taken aback. Thor, reading his befuddled turn, chuckled at his funny expression. “What?”

           “You called him Odin. He’s your father.” Loki pointed out. Thor shrugged.

           “He does not feel like the one I grew up with, we’ve hardened his heart too hard I think. He’s part of the reason I’d like to go.” Thor snickered. “Think Loki, when we’re married, they’ll still be your parents in a sense.” Loki snorted, laughing a little.

           “To be blood by engagement? I think that is probably worse than adoption.”  Thor smiled and rested a kiss on Loki’s neck that shivered his spine.

           “Do you really find my proposal such a burden?” Thor asked, and Loki smiled, he had been rather distant toward the whole thing. But the idea of being married, somehow seemed strange, stranger than just continuing as they were, being together in their little affair they didn’t know what to call. But, he found he could possibly grow fond of the idea. Loki turned around, looking into Thor’s hurt and slightly shy face, he smiled.

           “No, Thor, I don’t.” He comforted him with, and Thor grinned, taking Loki’s hand, he led him inside.

           “Come, let us bathe together.” This time the two did not skip their sensualities.

 

After a long, well needed bath, the two dressed in their own clothes and watched the sunrise. Loki finished fastening the last few buckles on his leather vest, an elaborate fastening system that crisscrossed in the front, and pulled the sleeves down on his dark, almost black, green tunic. Thor pulled his hair in a low ponytail behind his ears, and tied up black pants, with a dark gray coat over it. They checked themselves in the long, gold rimmed mirror, making sure each touch to their garment was set properly. The two had still not managed to lose their princely rituals.

            “Does he know we’re coming to meet with him?”Loki inquired. Thor shook his head and pulled on a tasseled rope by the door, it rang a bell that sent for servants. In a matter of moments the door was let open by a burly guard and a young manservant answered pleasantly.

            “Appoint us to meet with King Odin.” Thor ordered.

            “Aye sir,” he spoke, and left promptly. Thor faced to Loki.

            “You look nice.” Loki smiled at the compliment and kissed his newly made fiancé. He broke away and continued to adjust his outfit, an abrupt knock startling them, Loki answered the door, finding the same servant returned.

            “The king has agreed to meet in the throne room. He said be punctual.” Loki nodded, biting the inside of his cheek nervously.

            “Let’s go.” They linked their fingers together and walked too fast to the throne room, it glowed with early light, and Odin sat above them like the golden king of the gods he was, fully robed and armored, his scepter in his hand. Thor and Loki raised their fist to their chest and bowed respectfully.

            “Thor, Loki.” Odin addressed, Loki pursed his lips, almost unwillingly and Thor spoke, before Loki had his chance to explode in bolts of repressed anger.

            “Father, Loki and I are--” Frigga came with swiftness from the booming door of she and Odin’s chamber, she walked with thankful tears and embraced them both tightly, swinging one arm around Loki and another around Thor. She pulled on their necks until she couldn’t hold them any tighter, and she concealed her released sobs behind their backs, not willing to let them see her cry, she freed them, and Loki took a deep breath, smiling at the woman.

            “I wanted to be the first to see you back, but by the time any one gave the news to your arrival, you’d already retired.” She took a deep breath, “So, welcome back, my, how I worried over you, I spoke with Heimdall nearly every day to see how you were.” Loki nodded.

            “It’s all right mother, we’re both back now, and we’re both all right. Now Thor, what was it you were saying?” Thor looked to both Frigga and Odin now, smiling. Thor’s heart raced faster and he looked to them with dilating pupils. He had to tell them, he couldn’t leave his mother wondering what was going on with his life, or why he’d suddenly disappeared again. If it was simply Odin to defy, it was a bit more likely, but he could not leave his mother without a firm explanation.

            “We’d like to be married.” He confessed, his breath evening out once he’d said it. Frigga looked to them with a bit of shook bewilderment before she let a small smile creep upon her lips. It was more than something to get used to, but she couldn’t not be accepting of them either. She knew how happy they made each other, despite the strange circumstances. And she wished to support them however they could. Seeing her sons get married had been something she’d looked forward to as mother, of course she hadn’t expected them to be wed to one another, though she dared not let herself seem bitter.

            “All right,” Frigga said, looking at Odin, “that’s wonderful. Though I think your father will simply have to understand that things have changed within these solid walls.” Odin did not respond to her shrewd gaze and instead turned his cheek, waiting for her to finish.

            “And we plan to stay on Midgard.” Loki finished, and Frigga’s brow rose.

            “But you’ve just returned. Now you wish to leave me again? Tell me you’ll at least stay till you’re wed.” Frigga’s face moved with slight devastation, and Thor nodded relieving her some of the pain.

            “Yes, of course, and we’ll come back to visit.” He assured, and Odin cleared his throat, having had enough of her sentimental outburst.

            “Frigga, could you leave for a moment, I’d like to return to the exclusivity this room held before you entered it.” He requested, and with that, Frigga sighed and kissed each their cheeks, she began to walk away.

            “I’ll see you later today.” She insisted, turning down the hall.

            “If you leave, then to whom will the throne’s burden fall upon?” Odin insisted of Thor, and Thor sighed. Of course, it was ultimately up to Odin, and though he found his answer to be a bit redundant, he did not bother himself with witty rebuttals. For though he did share a few many conflicts with Sif, she _was_ rather fit for such a position.

            “Sif would prove a great queen, father. In all honesty, you’re intolerance for our relationship has surpassed any civility of Asgardian punishment, more than I can see it. But, in my position, still I perceive your horror and distress upon this discovery. I have understood your need for your seeking our authenticity, but cannot at all agree with it. And after all the realms I’ve seen, all the ridicule I have faced, here has been of the masses. The souls I’ve met on Earth have meant more, and accepted more of me than anyone I’ve come to know on Asgard. Father, my home realm’s face is grand, what I wanted in some disturbed youth seems of little value, now I wish for simpler things, I’ve matured in my previous exile, and Though I’d like not to admit it, I have in this one as well. I love Loki, as a friend, as more, and though the oddity in it may come from our family’s adoption of him, it stands of the norm and natural to us. We’d like to leave, to be together, and after being apart a thousand years, and torn apart again, reunited with scars that show both on skin, and others that aren’t so visible, I think we deserve this our simple request. Let us leave. Please, grant us this.” Loki looked to Thor, smirking in approval of his lengthy, speech. Odin sighed, stood and shook his head.

            “I hear you my son, and despite my disapproval, misunderstanding, and distrust, I as well can see from which you stand. And while things may have been worse than they should have on Jotünheim, and both in Nifelheim, my decision still holds well to me. You two do seem as though you are befitted with an odd sense of emotion, and it is something I will never quite grasp I’m afraid. Still, I cannot let myself to keep you here—Thor, Loki, I grant it all.”


End file.
